#and did nothing wrong they just had some sheep in some islands! well.

[elbiotipo]

My grandpa was one of the last to work for La Forestal. They came to the Argentine Chaco to extract tannin from the quebracho tree. He tells me that every time a huge quebracho was cut down, it fell on the new little trees, not giving the forest time to grow back. A job from sun to sun, on lands stolen from the native peoples of the Chaco, who, along with criollos and immigrants, were also forced into gangs to cut down trees so hard that broke down axes, with trunks meters in diameter, to be pulverized in sweatshop factories and sent as tanin podwer to European industries. La Forestal did not pay you in pesos; you had a coin (my grandpa still has his, it says "Obrero N° 14"), which you presented at the company store, and they gave you whatever (food, booze) they cared to give you, or what they said they had; after all, as my grandfather says, if you didn't know how to read or write, how would you know you were getting less than they said?

And if you went on strike? And if you formed a union? And if you wanted to resist, like the indigenous peoples did? Some boys with a blood-red cap, the Cardenales, criminals taken from prison, would come and kill you, in broad daylight if you were striking, in the middle of the forest if you were alone. Many books tell about hacheros yelling one last long sapucai before killing themselves, because they couldn't stand it anymore.

Who were the owners of this terrible company? English. In the La Forestal HQ in the north of Santa Fe, a beautiful mansion (I understand that it is now a ruin) while the workers lived in mud huts with roofs of palm leaves, every day, the Union Jack was hoisted over Argentine soil, and of course, at five o'clock it was tea time, while all the tannin, loaded on barges and on railways worked by Argentines but owned by the British, went to Europe, and the wealth, of course, to London.

My grandfather lived through the last of this. Perón already came by that time, with worker's rights, unions, rural schools and clinics, the nationalization of railways... Nevertheless, he still had to hunt to eat and work from a young age at the machines of the company, as the company was leaving the country and couldn't even bother to pay a pittance to its workers. It eventually closed most of its operations and came into Argentine hands. But don't think it was because the English had a change of heart. They just found a better source of tannin, the acacias in their African colonies. God knows what crimes they committed there, if this is what they did in the territory of a 'sovereign' country.

And this is the side of the story I know. I cannot yet speak for all the territories the British owned in the Patagonia, some of which are still owned by English millionaries today. Don't come to tell me that the poor innocent English had nothing to do with the genocide that was done to the indigenous peoples in this country.

[lyculuscaelus]

A Delicate Copy

(AU; a pretty old one-shot, finally got the time to upload it on tumblr)

Nobody greeted him “morning” this time.

He woke up on an unfamiliar beach. The sand felt different—coarser than the one he used to sit on in those last seven years. The air smelled misty, unlike the clear sky that used to embrace most parts of the island with her warm arms, a cycle lasting for seven years. He saw the trees growing in bloom, but they did not remind him of his homeland—for he didn’t find that forest anywhere, nor did he see his beloved Mount Neriton. There were only mists, mists that used to arise from the wine-dark sea, mists that used to hide the face of death where gods were lurking, mists that used to give way to the warmth of a cave, in the past seven years.

And that was when he finally realized he was lost. Again.

The tired mariner crumbled on the beach, and sobbed.

He didn’t check what his tears were made of, for he knew there was nothing but pain in them. Pain as found in the glimmering reflection, pain as found in himself. Twenty years of pain condensed into one single teardrop, and he held up his hands to wipe it from his face.

But he sobbed still.

He did not see the herd of sheep coming. He did not see the young man cloaked in a kingly air walking. He sobbed until he felt himself melting, and that was when he stopped, for his sorrow had brought him burning rage. Rage for an unjust promise.

“Where did the Phaeacians send me? What country have I come to this time?” he roared, clenching his fists. “Why did they leave me here—with all this treasure I cannot protect? Have those Phaeacians not promised me to send me home—to my homeland where I came into being? And now what foreign land is this? Those idiots…they did me wrong indeed. May Zeus, god of suppliants, grant them a punishment that is only too proper for them…but for now, let me just count these gifts, in case some of them happen to be missing.”

And so he counted. The tripods seemed untampered, and the cauldrons looked fine. Gold and silver, and all this splendid clothing—surprisingly, he found nothing missing. Then he rose to his feet, and again he wandered, on this unfamiliar beach, with a heart much-enduring he let out another wail of sorrow, another stream of tears.

And then, the young man came forward. A cloak across his shoulders, A spear in his hand—the tip seemed somewhat strange—the young shepherd stopped, and regarded him curiously.

“Friend,” he addressed the young shepherd quickly, wiping out his tears when his eyes were not coping. “You’re the first one I see here. Will you promise me no harm, if I greet you with open arms? For I’m entreating you, like I would a god, to save me, protect my goods, and keep me in good company. I’m begging you, as a friend on his knee. Now please tell me everything, so I can understand—what country have I come to? What people have I met? Is this a sunny isle, or a headland of the mainland reaching out to sea?”

“Stranger—are you a fool? Wait no, I don’t think you are, so you must be a traveler from a distant land,” the young man answered him, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “But I’m sure men from different places have all heard of this island—because of its fertility? Maybe. But it’s a rugged place not fit for herding horses. You can find crops and grapes here, though, but it’s not like they’re uncommon. So I suppose it’s because of its heroes—stranger, do you happen to know the great Argonaut Laërtes, or Odysseus the sacker of cities? This is where they come from—such a place well-known, for I’m sure even lands far as Troy would still recognize the name ‘Ithaca’.”

He twisted his head, searching for memories. Ithaca—a name he had whispered so many times, to the goddess waiting in her cave, to the king sitting on the Phaeacian throne, in the songs he had sung in his pleading. He felt his lips lifting as joy swarmed up in his chest, but something about this place seemed strange…it still felt foreign to him, for some reason.

So he answered carefully. “Ithaca—a famous name indeed. I’ve heard of it even in wide Crete, somewhere far across the sea. Ah, so I’m finally here in person, with all these goods of mine. But there is more that I left when I fled from my city, when a dear son of Idomeneus fell to my own hands, for that swift-footed Orsilochus wished to take away the spoils I had won at Troy, for which I had suffered so much already—in the devastating war and on the dangerous sea. We struck him when he was heading home—me and my companions, with my bronze-tipped spear I ended him. But then I ran off to a ship, paying some Phoenicians to get me to other lands—I’d hoped they would take me to either Pylos or Elis, but the winds did not heed our command. And then here I was, worn out by exhaustion, laid low by sleep. But when I woke up, I found them all gone—and now it’s just me, alone with all my goods, here on this foreign land, seeking help.”

The young man smiled, and replied with a hand reaching out to his left shoulder. “Surely, Odysseus, one’s cunningness must be so wily if he is to outwit you—even for a god.”

He felt a jerk in his heart. How would a young shepherd like him see through his disguise?

“Yes, I know who you are—that pair of eyes I have indeed seen and heard of,” the young man continued gleefully. “But come now, Odysseus, do you really think there will be a celebration party waiting for you here? No, you will find troubles in your home, and I fear even you cannot defeat them this time.”

“What trouble are we speaking of?” Odysseus asked tentatively. “Then again, something feels wrong about this place already. If it is indeed Ithaca you’re speaking of, I don’t find any evidence—”

“You’re always thinking like that, aren’t you?” the young shepherd giggled. “No wonder people call you polymetis. Anyone else would’ve rushed to meet his wife and children—but not Odysseus. No, he’d test everything with trickery first, then he’d observe his wife himself, seeing if she’s still the Penelope he knew of—the answer is yes, even if you’d like to see for yourself. She still remains your wife—though not for long. At this very moment there are one hundred and eight suitors reveling in your house, spending your wealth as they wait for your wife to reconsider her marriage—a proposal she’s been denying for three years straight.”

He felt delighted, somehow, knowing that Penelope remained his own, even when he didn’t belong to Penelope alone anymore. For days he had been wondering if Penelope would find comfort in the fact that she didn’t have to wait for him any longer, and now…he could finally find out for himself.

“As for this place,” the young shepherd continued, pointing to the west. “I bet you can’t recognize it because of all this fog—it’ll probably disperse any moment soon—see? Now it’s gone.”

And then Odysseus saw it—Mount Neriton, where the forest was verdant; Phorcys’s anchorage, with an olive tree standing at the harbor head; the Naiads’ cave beside it—where one would make sacrifices to the nymphs to grant their wishes. And as Odysseus beheld everything, he fell to his knees, kissing the fertile ground with great passion, and held out his hands towards the nymphs with an utterance of prayer. The young man watched him with interest. But when Odysseus finished his prayer, the young shepherd replied. “Now let’s not delay but put these goods in some hidden corner of this sacred cave. Then I’ll tell you all the details about the troubles in your house before you go.”

And they brought them all into the cave—the shining bronze and gold, the fine clothes and all other gifts—and then they worked together to move a rock in place to block the entrance. When they had finished their work, the young shepherd was the first to speak. “Now, Odysseus, you can begin to plan for the suitors’ demise. That is a task I cannot assist you—but know that you can always trust your swineherd and your own son. So, stop by his house before you head for the palace. You can learn about everything that transpires in your house there.”

Then the shepherd gestured to him to go.

And Odysseus nodded with gratitude, then walked away. He didn’t notice how the young shepherd stared at his back, how a smirk revealed itself on his lips, how he slowly walked up, a spear in his hand, and all of a sudden—

Odysseus found himself falling to his knees, his back bleeding. 

And then the pain suddenly struck.

He knelt down to the ground, gasping in surprise and anguish. He barely caught a glimpse of the young man pacing beside him, as the shepherd finally spoke. “Well done, Odysseus, you have left your back open.”

“Why…why are you doing this?” Odysseus growled, his voice failing. “Who…are you?”

“A son you never had,” the young man smiled ominously. 

“Te…Tele…?”

“No,” the young man cut him off, looking away in disgust. “No, you’re the farthest thing I have to a father.”

“But…but why?”

“Touch your wound, and you’ll find your answer.”

So he stretched out his right hand with effort, and found the wound he did. Strangely, he did not see any red stained on his fingers—for there was no blood at all. Instead, a drop of water dripped from the tip of the finger, falling towards the sands. “What is…happening to me?” he hissed.

The young shepherd pointed at him with the spear, letting slip his words with wings. “I see you’re a good lier…but not as good as him. I know what you are at first sight—a shadow, a counterfeit, a phantom made of cloud—”

“What?” he exclaimed, his eyes wide open.

“Yes, you’re no Odysseus of Ithaca…” the young shepherd crouched down, lowering his face of mockery. “You’re nothing but a mere eidolon—of the man who is supposed to be here. I see you’re sharing his memories, his wits—but the thing is, you lack his spirit. The heart of a man is built upon hardships he endured, not hardships he remembered. For him, it’s been nineteen years since he had seen his home; but for you, it’s been twenty-seven days only.”

“How could you possibly know?” he snarled, ignoring his pain. “Who are you to judge my memory? The things I recall—the things I feel—They’re so real to me. I can smell the scent of gore as faces of men were smashed against the walls in that Cyclops’s cave, see the rays of Helios diminish as we entered the realm of Hades, hear the war-cries as we clashed with the Trojans…I have felt the pain of losses. I have known fear. I have suffered and sailed through the toughest of hells…and now you’re telling me that all these memories are nothing but fancy?”

“First of all,” the young man rose to his full height. A cloud of gold suddenly enshrouded the shepherd. The next thing he saw, the one standing before him had become a tall woman, armed with a panoply, her spear blazing. Upon her helmet, the red crest seemed as if drenched in blood. On the face of her shield, the head of a Gorgon stood out menacingly.

“…Athena?”

“I am to judge as I say so.” the woman allowed a smirk on her lips. “Second, no, these memories aren’t your fancy—they’re just not yours to begin with. Third, you are far from the man you’re trying to impersonate. For that reason, I have no use for you to clean up the mess here in Ithaca. Now, look at my eyes and tell me—where is Odysseus?”

He gasped, and raised his head painfully. His strength was failing him. “But I am…Odysseus.”

“Don’t keep fooling yourself. What you bear with you is not yours, and I cannot let you take what he has from him—his form, his memories, his sufferings…and his wife, his son, his family. I cannot allow you to have your ‘revenge’ while the real Odysseus suffers still,” the goddess glared at him, her eyes gleaming with rage. “I’ll ask you again—where is he?”

The pain was working its way through his veins as he once again crumbled, this time breathing rapidly as he felt his life slipping away. He had never felt the brink of death so close to him…but then, what remedy could he possibly find to appease the rage of a goddess?

Goddess…

“I don’t know…I’m sorry…” the words sounded softer than a whisper. He knew that death had finally found him—a sacker of cities, a man of twists and turns…

…a shadow of this man, at least—

—he accepted his death like accepting his identity.

He did not see the fluttering waves, forming a near-smirk on the face of the sea.

He did not see the goddess of wisdom plunging her spear into the sands, calculating new wiles for her scheme.

He did not see the wife of Odysseus weeping by her loom, wherein a shroud had been woven, her time run out finally.

For at that moment, he had drawn his final breath already.

All of a sudden, the fallen body melted into a rising cloud, erasing any trace of recognition. A gist of steam rose up silently, taking away one last sign of its existence. Staring at the emptiness where a phantom of Odysseus had once laid, Athena already knew her answer.

“Calypso.”

…………………………………………………………………………………

(TW: implied SA)

He beheld the daylight blankly, trying to blink away the memories of the last five days. Or the last few years—the number had already lost its meaning here.

But he’d never thought the goddess would be cruel enough to lock him up in the cave for five days straight. Five days without sunlight, five days without fresh air, five days without mourning by the sea, whispering hopes of his homecoming.

The door was only opened when he was in need of food…or when the goddess was in need of him. 

Why don’t you just close the door forever, and trap myself in? Why don’t you just leave me here dying of hunger, or simply suffocating?

Is it really necessary to open the door again?

Odysseus shook his head, continuing his walk towards the shore. He didn’t turn to see if the goddess was following behind—he couldn’t care anymore. It wasn’t even the goddess herself who freed him—he just woke up finding the door open, and took his chance. And now he had finally come out, no goddess in sight.

I’d rather die than let you take possession of me. It’s a thought he had whispered on the first night, when he was asked into her cave. When he was forced into her cave. Only now had he realized, he had been so simple, so naïve. 

He did not die, but he had been her possession ever since.

Sometimes he would just hope that the goddess would be merciful enough to simply let him die an Ajax’s death. Sometimes he would think about casting himself into the neighing sea, wishing for an end to all this misery. But he would always restrain himself whenever he thought of Penelope. He just couldn’t leave her waiting forever.

“But you already did,” sometimes he could hear the goddess’s voice answering. “You failed your comrades already. What makes you think you won’t fail your family?”

Is that really her voice? Or is it just an illusion? He could no longer tell the difference. Reality had become the nightmare he woke up to, and he couldn’t find solace in his dreams either.

It’s as if I’m dead inside…

But deep down, he knew he was dead already. Dead to the mortal world he knew of, dead to the people he loved and cared for. If anything, at least he was not physically dead yet.

But after five days of that kind of treatment…he only hoped to be long dead before then.

What are those five days for?

He had no answer. Although…some trees did appear to be missing. He’d always notice it whenever there was a tree missing. It was like an instinct, something he had trained himself when he used to garden with his father. But that memory had seemed so distant as Ithaca itself—so hard to access now. 

He had just reached the shoreline when he noticed a spot on the sea. 

Is that…a raft?

A raft in full sail, steered by a person with an oar, three large sacks beside them…

But then he saw the goddess, waving at the person on board, a pleasant smile on her face, as the raft slowly sailed away. The person on board—a man, as he saw that now, his face seemed rather familiar. It was as if…

Wait.

Is that…me?

Odysseus almost called, and stopped himself in fear of the goddess. That man didn’t seem to notice him, but instead turned towards the brightening horizon, a brave new journey ahead…

What on top of Mount Neriton is going on here?

But then he found the goddess approaching. The smile on her face had somehow turned malicious, and Odysseus wasn’t sure if he’d want to find out why. The goddess walked up to him, and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

“Now that he’s gone,” the goddess looked beyond the wine-dark sea, beyond the lands and islands that had composed his wanderings, then whispered gently to his ears. “It’s like I promised, Odysseus of Ogygia: we shall have our eternity.”

[storyboard-sketch]

Headcanons about Cult of the Lamb: Sheep Culture

Something that Lambert (aka the Cult Leader) never got the chance to learn as they were born in the age when sheep were already being hunted to the point all of them were in hiding and scattered. So much of this they never got to experience themself, but they remember that cooking was a big thing...all they had the chance to learn however was which grass was fireproof. That's the kind they use for making bowls while cooking for the cult and its something they teach their followers too.

Location:

The sheep herds used to be well known, spread out across the far north of the Lands of the Old Faith and often mingling with yaks, deer, skunks, goats, and rabbits that also dwelled in the Highlands and Cliffs.

Hierarchy

Contrary to popular belief the bellwether (lead sheep) was usually a ewe rather than a ram but if one proved themselves capable, gender wasn't a factor in leadership. What mattered most was the ability to sense danger long before anyone else and know how to handle it calmly and swiftly.

Rams were often seen moving about supplies or working as guards around the fields. It was once very simple to spot the emissaries of the Old Faith trying to approach and swift to deal with them. While the sheep were on the plains they were safe...or so they thought.

Ewes did various chores across the villages, from humble crop tending to going out on trading missions with other villages. The ewes were very adaptable and would even take shifts for the guard rams when needed.

Yearlings were what the sheep called teenagers, rambunctious and energetic...they were tasked with learning what herbal magic the sheep elder yows knew. Tempering their attitudes and forcing them to learn patience.

Culture

Song and dance were indeed a big part of sheep culture. Not because the sheep were without concerns but because they were intelligent enough to know how dangerous their home was. Rather than live in fear, the sheep learned to take each day as a gift and celebrate it. For they may not be here for tomorrow.

Talented with herbal magics, even more so than Leshy's or Kalamar's followers. The sheep often used harmless enchanted meals to change their wool patterns and colors. Like dying your hair, the effect wears off after somewhere between a week and a month depending on how strong the enchantment is.

They could also create powerful healing potions to swiftly heal docked tails or missing limbs taken by battle. Some say there was one potion that could completely regrow missing body parts...but that's just a legend. Right?

Sheep were vengeful by nature. Wrong one of them and the whole flock will remember. They memorize faces easily and make their own decisions about who to trust and who not to. There are stories of some that headbutt their enemies straight off of cliffs.

They made it very difficult for the wolf tribe to hunt them as the centuries continued, but this resulted in them becoming like fish in a barrel for the Bishops. As they built their villages to be well fortified with tall dried briar walls and homes in the center... it was easy to burn them out.

A lamb's fleece (or poncho) was usually sewn by relatives while they were young and their bell was given to them when they came of age. Fleeces were meant to represent both family connection and their personalities. To help identify all at a glance. The bell however was an alert system in case any of them got lost or were in trouble. Later...these things became heirlooms as sheep became more and more rare.

Food

While mostly vegetarian, some members of the sheep did have carnivorous traits due to heritage (on this island who knows what can happen?) and thus were able to farm squirrels and birds for food on top of their regular farms.

Baking was a big deal for sheep, nothing like a warm fresh baked roll with honey to help after a bad day. Or coming home to a sweet cake to celebrate their hard work all month. It was a reward, flour took a long time to make and sugar hard to harvest... so baked goods were saved for special occasions.

The crop for the highlands was sugarcane, when the sheep were lost the plants were too. No one knows where to find any these days.

[pillage-and-lute]

(For next time you’re looking for prompts) I really like your writing, and when I thought of this I wondered what you’d do with it: Geralt and Jaskier are together, but agree to pretend not to be for their next stop. Maybe one of them wants to win an old bet, or Jaskier’s not 100% sure his betrothal to a local noble has been officially dissolved, whatever, (not homophobia), fluff and high jinx ensue. Anyway I hope something unexpectedly nice happens to you today.

Hi Dahliavandare! Thanks for the blessing in my inbox  🥰

This ran away from me, tons of backstory about Jaskier’s family. Just, way too much.

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“Geralt, darling,” Jaskier said hesitantly. “I have an errand we need to run, and I’m not sure you’ll like it.”

Geralt hummed noncommittally. They were resting at their camp outside of Hagge and the warm summer air and the feeling of Jaskier curled against him had lulled him into a warm, fuzzy stupor.

“You see,” Jaskier continued, fiddling with the buttons at his cuffs. “I’m a noble, and you know that of course.” He laughed awkwardly. “And I’ve been lucky enough to pawn most of those responsibilities off onto my much savvier sister, but there are certain niceties that landed families observe that--”

“Spit it out,” Geralt grumbled, although not bad naturedly. 

“I’m betrothed,” Jaskier said. “And we need to go to Gwendeith to break it off.”

Geralt turned to look at his beloved. “You’re engaged?”

“Betrothed!” Jaskier yelped, then saw Geralt’s expression. “Oh, dear heart, there’s a slight difference in meaning, especially to nobles. Engaged implies an intent to marry--”

“And betrothed doesn’t?”

“Well, sort of, but I’ve been betrothed practically since I was born, engaged would imply I’m sort of planning the wedding. It’s a contract, a social contract. My family and my betrothed’s are pretty minor nobles, so really it’s just a way of saying ‘maybe someday our kids could marry’. It isn’t the hard and fast marriage it might be if I were, say, a prince.”

“Then why do it?” Geralt asked. Most of the time he was happy to understand as little of the lives of the gentry as possible, but Jaskier was important.

“Honestly,” Jaskier sighed. “I think Papa arranged it because he cared for me, Mama too.”

“It takes away your choice,” Geralt began.

“It doesn’t. A betrothal like mine and... Iliana, that’s her name, only met her twice, it’s sort of social insurance. Especially for her, but for me as well. Nobles are supposed to marry, so, if at some point neither of us had found love we could marry one another. For Iliana there’s the security of having a husband, although from what I’ve heard she can handle herself fine, and for me its assurance of heirs if that sort of thing concerned me, and companionship for us both.”

It sounded...mostly sort of logical to Geralt.

“But I love you,” Jaskier said. “And I don’t want to be betrothed to anyone because I love you and, someday, whenever you get over you allergy to the concept of commitment, I’m going to put a ring on you.”

Geralt hummed gruffly but said nothing. There was a slim golden band hidden away in his bags and he be damned if Jaskier got to propose first.

“I will. Anyway, I need to tell Iliana. I’m sure she won’t mind. I met her once when I was seven and again when I was nineteen.”

“Nineteen, when?” Geralt asked. Most of Jaskier’s nineteenth year had been spent at Geralt’s side. Most of every year after that too.

“Just before I met you. I had travelled east to meet her originally, and was going back west when we met.”

“Tell me about her?”

“Illiana? Oh, well, she told me that she was fine leaving the betrothal in place because it’s standard, but that she doesn’t care for men in that way so she’d never give me heirs and would have my balls nailed above her door if I ever told her she had to.”

“Sounds like she’d get along with Yen.”

“I fear they’d take over the world,” Jaskier said. “Anyway, I told her no worries since, honestly, heirs just aren’t important to me. Then we agreed that when either of us found love we’d break the betrothal and that would be that.”

“Hmmm.”

“No, Geralt, tell me what that means. Is that a ‘okay, let’s go to Gwendeith’ hum? A ‘I’m angry that you’re betrothed’ hum?”

Geralt shifted to poke the fire. “It’s a ‘I think there’s more you need to tell me’ hum.”

“Ah,” Jaskier rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s the thing. We have to go in person because a letter would be rude, but also...we have to pretend not to be together, while we’re in Gwedeith.”

“Why?”

“It’s politics, dear heart. It would be shaming to Iliana, socially. Personally, I don’t think she’d care, but it’s a courtesy thing.”

“I don’t do a lot of lovey stuff anyway,” Geralt said. 

“You think you don’t,” Jaskier said. He began to unroll their bedroll.

“What do you mean, Jaskier?”

Jaskier turned to him, smiling indulgently and gilded in the firelight. “Our lives have molded around one another, my love. When I stand beside you your hand goes to my back or my shoulder. You order dinner for me because you know just what food I like. When I’m tired you don’t have to ask what’s wrong, you just lift me onto Roach behind you.”

Geralt hadn’t even realized he did, but he knew it was true. Jaskier leaned over and pressed a kiss to Geralt’s slightly furrowed brow.

“When my boots are wearing thin you buy me new ones before I even notice. When I’m cold you give me your cloak. If I fall asleep with my head on your shoulder you’d rather sit like that all night than disturb me.”

Geralt shrugged awkwardly. “You buy me beeswax,” he said. It seemed a fair retort. Jaskier bought him beeswax to put in his ears when cities or sometimes monsters were too loud for Geralt’s senses. “You only buy light scents, even though I know you like bolder perfumes.”

“Yes,” Jaskier said, taking one of Geralt’s large, scarred hands. “We love eachother very much, and it’s obvious to people who care to look.”

“That could be dangerous,” Geralt began, his head spiralling towards worry for Jaskier’s safety, but Jaskier cut him off.

“No, dear heart. It’s obvious to those who care to look. The sort of people who would hurt me for loving you, well, most of them think you can’t love, so they don’t look for love, and they don’t see.” 

Geralt sat back. People saw what they expected to see, it was true. 

“We’ll travel to Gwendeith,” he said. “And unbetroth you.”

Jaskier kissed him and his lips tasted like the jerky they’d eaten for supper.

-- -- -- -- -- --

The trip to Gwendeith was long. It was at the very edge of any map, past Posada to the east, tucked into the Blue mountains.  They traveled along the Dyfne river, taking the occasional contract but making good time. This far from anything, there were few people to be troubled by monsters. 

They stopped in Posada one night, eating dinner in the corner of a familiar tavern. This time, however, Jaskier was much better received and the bread ended up on the table rather than down his trousers.

Past Posada, and almost to the end of the Dyfne river, Geralt asked, “Why did your parents pick Iliana? How did they know of her?” Lettenhove was entirely the other side of the continent, a tiny island off the coast of Poviss with two villages and a couple flocks of sheep. 

Geralt only knew of it from Jaskier’s descriptions, which were mostly stories of the ice cold sea and rocky cliffs. He tended toward calling it ‘idyllic’ and ‘picturesque’ altough occassionally ‘the arse end of the world’ and ‘colder than an ice giant’s ballsack.’ The first time Geralt had taken Jaskier to Kaer Morhen he’d feared for his bard’s safety in the cold of the mountains, but Jaskier hadn’t even blinked an eye, merely bundling up in a hugely wooly cloak and mittens. 

“Ah, well,” Jaskier said. “Long story, but Papa was in Temeria, see, since nothing ever happens in Lettenhove, because we have more people than sheep, he get’s sent on diplomatic missions a lot. He’s good at it, and he can be spared. He loves it too, even though he’s sort of retired he still does them. Takes Ma, calls the trips his little “sunshine vacations”. 

“You get your personality from your father, then?” Geralt asked. Jaskier didn’t talk about his family much, and Geralt got the sense that, rather than this being because they were horrible, Jaskier simply missed them too much. 

“Definitely. Ma’s lovely, and brilliant with just everything to do with her hands, but she’s not good with people. I got her looks, though.”

“I should thank her, then,” Geralt said, smiling. 

Jaskier chuckled. “Yes, she’s the reason for the long lives, too, fantastic story.”

“Finish the one about your father and Gwendeith first.”

“Right, so Papa was in Temeria, and so was Iliana’s father, sort of the mayor of Gwendeith, as I understand, although not back then. He’d gotten robbed, though, and Papa had won a horse and quite a lot of gold in a card game. It might have been Gwent, I can’t remember. If you ever meet Papa you should ask him. Anyway, he gave the extra horse and gold to Iliana’s father.”

“So your betrothal was a debt?”

“Goodness, no. This was years before I was born, Papa hadn’t even met Ma yet. No, they struck up a friendship, because when Iliana’s father got home he had a mage send a message to Papa to thank him and they struck up a friendship.”

“Sending messages by mage? That’s expensive for a penpal.”

“Ah well, that actually ties in to the story about Ma. Ma’s got magic, just a little, she’s a hedge witch of a sort. The issue is, hedge witches mostly use plants, and Ma couldn’t grow grass, so she mostly works with wood. Anyway, she has a friend, her very best friend, is a mage. They grew up together, and my Auntie Szarlotta sent my Papa’s first few messages back to Iliana’s father.”

Geralt smiled atop Roach. Jaskier’s storytelling pace was as familiar as Roach’s saddle, and it was calming in a way. 

“So, Auntie was sending Papa’s message when Ma came in to visit. That’s how she met Papa, because she’d only just moved to Lettenhove. Auntie says it was love at first sight, but Papa insists that Ma turned up her nose and ignored him for months.”

“Which one is it?”

“Knowing Ma, probably both. She’s a little like you, so the second she realized she liked Papa she ignored him so she wouldn’t have to deal with it.”

Geralt huffed good-naturedly.

“Anyway, Auntie Szarlotta agreed to send Papa’s messages for free, and she even included a way for Iliana’s father to send them back, so long as he wrote his response on the back of the same paper. She always timed it though, so that Ma was over when Papa was there. And I guess the rest is history.”

“Except the immortality.”

“Right, well, Ma got really sick when she was pregnant with my sister, I was little so I barely remember but Papa was so worried, and Ma looked really pale. Well, Auntie got really worried, freaked out a little, and she found all these old spells to try to make Ma well again. I remeber the light, she was working in a room of the old lighthouse and I could see the light of her spells from my window. Anyway, eventually she tries some on Ma, but they don’t work, and she just keeps trying.”

Geralt had an image of a frantic sorceress being watched by a young Jaskier through a crack in a door. 

“But I suppose some of those old spells need a little time to work because nothing at all worked and then they all sort of worked at once. There was this big, bright light and then Ma was well, and she and Papa haven’t aged a day since then.”

Geralt glanced at his lover, who looked the same at fifty as he had at twenty. “And you don’t age? What about your sister?”

“Ksenia hasn’t aged either. She looks like Papa, just so you know, grey eyes, blonde hair. She’s got two kids, now, but I haven’t met them.”

“Do the kids age?”

“Right now they’re very young,” Jaskier said. “I didn’t stop aging until nineteen or twenty, so I suppose we’ll have to wait and see.”

“How do you know she has kids?”

“Oh, well, Auntie Szarlotta sends letters to me, but we travel and it’s hard to send them right to me, so I just pick them up at Oxenfurt.”

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. He needed to go to Lettenhove. Jaskier had met his sort-of-family, he should meet Jaskier’s. 

“I’d love to go see them...” Jaskier said, wistfully. 

“Who?”

“My niece and nephew, they’re almost two and three years old now.”

Geralt picked Jaskier up by the collar of his doublet and placed him onto the back of Roach. 

“We’ll spend the winter in Lettenhove this year,” he said as Jaskier wrapped his arms around Geralt’s waist.

“Really?”

“Hmmm.”

Geralt needed to ask Jaskier’s father for his hand in marriage, anyway.

-- -- -- -- -- -- 

They made it to Gwendeith just after mid summer, riding into the little town at noon. Despite the season, the little mountain valley was shaded and cool. Jaskier shivered slightly and Geralt had to resist the urge to pull his cloak from his pack. From that point forth, they weren’t supposed to be in love.

Fuck.

They had to request a meeting with the mayor, which didn’t surprise Geralt. In a town such as this, logging and mining were the main industries. Trading for food to last over the winter began early and was of the utmost importance. That left Geralt and Jaskier, unfortunately, sitting with a man who introduced himself as Sir Boris.

Apparently he was a retired knight who acted as a sort of captain of the guard, except there wasn’t much of a guard. His wife Lady Olenka joined them and the two of them talked about their grandchildren until Geralt could feel his eyes rolling back in his head. 

At any other time, Jaskier would have placed one gentle hand on his wrist, which would have fortified Geralt, but they couldn’t. 

“But you’re here for Iliana,” Sir Boris was saying. “Dreadfully sorry you can’t see her today, I’m afraid there’s been an issue with the lumber trade to sort out. You’ll just have to have my darling Lenka and I as company until that’s done.”

He sent a huge wink to his wife, a slim, elegant woman, who chuckled and playfully hit him on the shoulder, to which Sir Boris pretended to be wounded before throwing back his head and laughing hugely. Everything the old knight did was huge, he was a large man with a round, red face and large belly and a laugh that could shake walls. 

“It’s no trouble,” Jaskier said. “I’m sure preparing for winter is a year round project here.”

“Oh of course,” Lady Olenka said. “But once it’s here we can all relax, and spend time with family.” She leaned forward as if imparting a delightful secret and said in a stage-whisper, “Boris has been our town’s Father Winter for the last four years.”

Jaskier made impressed ‘ooh’ noises and Geralt tried to at least look like he understood that. 

Boris laughed again. “It’s this lot,” he said, slapping his round stomach. “Better than some old geezer with a pillow down his shirt, eh?”

Geralt hummed in agreement. 

“And you must make a lovely Mother Winter, Lady Olenka,” Jaskier said politely.

She smiled, lines crinkling around her eyes as if drawing a road map. “It’s not as important as Father Winter, of course, but I rather pride myself that I plan a very good Midwinter festival.” Geralt got the sense that behind the modesty she was quite proud, and, he suspected, with good reason.

“But, you must tell me,” she said, modestly changing the subject. “Is there to be a missus Pankratz, now that you’ve come to see Lady Iliana?”

“I am a man in love,” Jaskier said. “And I am hopeful that an engagement will come soon, yes.”

“Oh dearie that’s just lovely,” Lady Olenka said, patting Jaskier’s cheek. “And you’re such a nice boy too, little young looking to be betrothed to our Lady Iliana anyway, although she’s a very dear woman.”

“We just love her,” Sir Boris said. “She’s a great mayor, not keen on marriage, but nobody minds, she just seems to have adopted the whole town as family.”

Lady Olenka patted her husband’s broad shoulder. “It was smart of you not to bring your love here, though. There’s some nobles here from Lyria, that’s who she’s been trading with, and I think they’d like any excuse to disparage here.” She lowered her voice again. “You know how those lot are about having women in charge.”

“I can’t relate,” Sir Boris laughed. “Lenka’s the ruler in our house.” That got a laugh because it had to, and because Sir Boris’s laugh was surprisingly infectious. 

“Good on you bringing a bodyguard too,” he said once the laughter had abated. He slapped Geralt companionably on the back, which was like being hit by a friendly battering ram. “Witcher too, don’t get many up here, but I bet you’re the safest man in a hundred miles.”

“Oh, dear, don’t you know?” Lady Olenka said. “Lord Julian here is a bard as well, he goes by Jaskier and sings all about witchers.”

“Really?” Sir Boris said, looking at Jaskier. “Blimey, imagine that. Good on you, finding a niche in the market.”

Geralt’s ears were beginning to ache. Friendly though Sir Boris might be, he didn’t seem to have a volume level below ‘deafening’. He was tired and overwrought and he just wanted to cuddle up with Jaskier in a bed. It wasn’t even suppertime, though.

They sat through another hour of hearing about Boris and Olenka’s eighteen grandchildren. 

“And three great-grandchildren,” Boris added proudly.

Geralt was thankful Jaskier could carry the conversation. He longed for a kiss, though. Now that he knew he couldn’t have one, his lips fairly ached for one.

Supper was a large affair, with one of Boris and Olenka’s children’s family over for dinner as well. Geralt was seated across from Jaskier between two small children who, apparently, needed to be separated at dinertimes to prevent bickering. They contented themselves instead by asking Geralt every question they could think of, often making him wrack his brain for child appropriate answers.

It wasn’t just witchering questions, either. He answered such questions as “Why is the sky blue?” (Because it’s Melitele’s favorite color). Immediately before answering “How big are dragon scales?” (The small ones are like pebbles and the big ones are like shields.)

Jaskier smiled at him over his bowl of stew, eyes sparkling. Geralt loved children, and Jaskier loved seeing them adore Geralt.

“So, Lord Julian,” Boris and Olenka’s daughter began. “Your lady love, tell us about her?” She smiled Lady Olenka’s warm smile and Jaskier did a good show of seeming bashful. 

“My love is unlike any other,” he began. “And if you’ll pardon my saying so, I’m a poet, and so must wax poetic.”

“Wouldn’t settle for anything less, lad!” Boris bellowed cheefully.

“My darling has fair hair, like moonlight,” Jaskier said, and the table oohed appreciatively. Geralt felt his ears get hot.

“And eyes like summer,” the bard continued. “I could get lost in them. No eyes could compare.” Geralt kicked him under the table, but Olenka was sighing sympathetically.

“But of course,” Jaskier said slyly, my heart is best held by my love’s lips.”

Boris chuckled knowingly. “I’ll bet it is, my boy,” he said, winking. Olenka slapped his arm, but she was smiling. Geralt felt hot.

“I’m afraid, however that my lover is quite modest, and won’t appreciate me extolling too many virtues,” Jaskier finished. “So I must finish with, I love them very much, and it is for them alone that my heart beats.”

Therewith leaving every person at the table (those above the age of twelve, at least) with misty eyes, Jaskier helped Lady Olenka clean up supper. Geralt helped put the dishes away.

After dinner they were led back to the mayor’s house. “I’m afraid the negotiations don’t seem to be finished,” Lady Olenka said. “I had hoped they would be quick, but it seems not. If the issue wasn’t resolved today, I wouldn’t bet on them being resolved too early tomorrow, either. You two don’t have pressing business elsewhere?”

“No, my lady,” Jaskier said, although if they lingered too long they wouldn’t make it to Lettenhove for the winter, as it was, it would be close.

“I’m sure she’ll be able to see you soon,” the lady said. “Here’s your room, and Master Witcher, your room is just at the far end of the hall.”

She said goodnight and Geralt hoped she couldn’t see the slump of his shoulders.

Separate rooms.

Jaskier smiled ruefully at him and they parted for the night. Geralt’s bed was large and comfortable, with clean linens and feather pillows, but he barely got a wink of sleep.

-- -- -- -- -- --

The next morning found Jaskier and Geralt breakfasting in the tavern, owned, apparently, by another of Boris and Olenka’s grown children.

“Did you sleep well?” Jaskier whispered over a plate of sausage and eggs.

“Fine,” Geralt grunted.

“I couldn’t sleep a wink,” Jaskier said. “Want my last piece of bacon? I’m stuffed.”

Geralt took it gratefully, slipping Jaskier his fried slice as a trade. No matter how Jaskier protested that he was stuffed, he always had room for a fried slice.”

“Terrible woman,” said a nasal voice at the next table. “Just impossible to do business with.”

“I agree, overemotional, you know how they get,” agreed another voice. Jaskier made eye contact with Geralt. The accent was Lyrian.

“Not even married,” said the first speaker. “What a disgrace. If my daughter got to her age without children I’d just die of shame.”

Geralt pitied his daughter.

“Oh of course,” said the second man. “Attractive, though, for an old maid.”

The first man snickered cruelly. “Thinking a little wooing might soften her up?”

“It always does, women like that, they’re just angry because they haven’t found a man.”

“Won’t your wife mind?”

“Are you going to tell her?” Both men laughed unpleasantly.

A serving girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen, came around the tables, presumably one of Sir Boris’ many granddaughters. She took their plates onto a tray and smiled when Jaskier slipped a few coins onto the tray as a tip.

At the next table  one of the Lyrian’s snapped their fingers impatiently. The girl rolled her eyes. Geralt was pleased to see that, although she served him professionally, as she walked away she ‘accidentally’ tread on his foot.

“What pathetic pieces of shit, the pair of them,” Jaskier said as they stepped out into the sunlight. 

“Hmmm,” Geralt agreed. Then he looked around quickly and pulled Jaskier into an alleyway, urging the bard deeper into the shadows. 

“What? Geralt di-”

Geralt smushed his lips gracelessly to Jaskier’s, crowding him up against the wall. Jaskier’s hair between his fingers was so familiar and comforting, as was the little sigh Jaskier let out.

They pulled apart and Geralt rested his forehead against Jaskier’s. “That’ll tide me over for a while,” he whispered. Jaskier smiled.

“Are you master Julian?”

The pair sprang apart, looking in alarm at the red headed boy at the far end of the alley. 

“Yes...?” Jaskier said.

“Only, Pa said to come find you, and he said you’d be with a big man dressed all in black.”

“And you found us here?” Jaskier asked.

“Didn’t know you’d be here, did I?” Said the boy, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets. “It’s the shortcut through to the tavern, but then, I figured he’s the only big man in black around.”

Geralt inclined his head, feeling his ears go hot.

“Lady Iliana has time to see you now,” the boy continued, oblivious to the awkwardness. 

“By all means...lead the way,” said Jaskier.

They were led out of the alley and back to the mayor’s house by the messenger boy.

“Out of curiosity,” Jaskier asked. “Is your grandad Sir Boris?” 

“Yeah, that’s him,” said the lad. “He made me a toy sword for my tenth birthday too.” He pointed proudly to the wooden sword tied at his hip with some string.

“It makes you look a proper hero,” Jaskier said. Then he pulled out his coin purse. “A copper for bringing us the message and...another to not tell anyone what you saw.”

The boy looked between the two of them shrewdly.

“Not even my best friend? I tell Mikhail everything.”

“Not until Geralt and I have left.”

“Three coppers total,” the boy said promptly. Jaskier handed them over good naturedly and the boy flashed a gap toothed grin before taking off.

Geralt and Jaskier shrugged at each other, before finding their way to the main room of the mayor’s house. A broad shouldered woman of about fifty poked her head out of a door.

“Julian?”

Geralt and Jaskier went inside.

“You look well,” Iliana said, sitting behind a large desk and gesturing to a couple chairs. “You havent’ aged a day.”

“And you look as lovely as I remember,” Jaskier said.

“Flirt. Come to ask me for heirs?”

Jaskier shuddered. “No, my lady. I remember your threat well. I think you know why I’m here.”

The two Lyrians barged through the door. 

“Did I ask you to enter?” Iliana said, coldly. Geralt felt an unusual curl of fear set up in his stomach, she was a distinctly fearsome woman.

“Well,” said the first Lyrian.

“You were so beautiful, I couldn’t wait on seeing you again,” said the second, slimily.

“Oh I say!,” Iliana said, standing. She placed her hand over her chest in a delicately offended way, which was ill suited to her. “You sir are too bold, and in front of my betrothed too!”

The Lyrians looked, panicked, at the people sat in the chairs. As Geralt was seated in the chair nearest the door, and therefore nearest them, they came to the wrong conclusion. The blood drained from both their faces.

“What an insult!” Iliana continued. “You should be ashamed! What a lack of diplomacy!” 

Beside Geralt, Jaskier snickered. She was laying it on a little thick. 

“Why,” she continued. “I ought to write to your king! I’ve never been so insulted. And I’m sure my beloved will want to sort out this insult too.” She fluttered her lashes at Geralt. 

Geralt nearly jumped out of his seat, but thankfully his brain caught up. He stood, growling a little theatrically and placed one hand on the hilt of his steel sword.

“Our apologies my lady,” the first man said hurriedly.

“Our mistake, we’ll just--” they dissappeared out the door.

“What a fearsome couple,” Geralt heard whispered as the door swung shut.

Iliana sighed satisfactedly and kicked her feet up on her desk. “It seems I should thank you,” she said. “That is going to make negotiations much easier.”

“I’m sure you always get good deals,” Jaskier said.

“Yes. I get the deals I want.”

“You know why I’m here,” Jaskier said.

“Yes.”

“Do you agree?”

“To disolve the betrothal? Of course. Never found a lover for myself so I never bothered but, well, I just don’t do romance.”

“Some people don’t,” Geralt said, thinking of Eskel.”

“Indeed,” Iliana said, smiling warmly at him. “Not all of us have a soulmate to sing us songs.” She laughed at their surprised faces. 

“Oh you fooled them, and you may have fooled Boris and Olenka, but I’ve heard your songs, Julian. It’s written right into everything you do.”

She began rummaging in one of the drawers in the desk. “I don’t mind, of course. So few people know we’re actually betrothed...there it is.” She pulled out an old piece of paper. “I’ll just rip it up if that’s fine by you. You’ll have to do the same to yours of course.”

“We’re going to Lettenhove this winter,” Jaskier said. “I’ll do it as soon as I find it.”

Iliana smiled again. “Father always did say that your dad had a horrible filing system.”

“He filed all his papers on the floor, yes, although I imagine my sister is neater.”

Iliana tore the paper in half without ceremony and placed the contract in the waste paper bin. “Lettenhove is very far away, Julian, will you get there in time?”

Jaskier glanced at Geralt. 

“I don’t know,” Geralt said.

“No matter,” said Iliana. She began writing something on a new sheet of paper. “Our logging teams float lumber all down the Dyfne and Pontar rivers. Show this to the dockmaster at the tip of the Dyfne and our riverboat captains can get you to Novigrad.” 

She pulled out another sheet of paper. “Once you’re in Novigrad, show this to the harbormaster and he’ll get you to Lettenhove.” She looked at their shocked faces and smiled. “Our lumber is the best, and it’s used in everything, including ships. I’m willing to cash in a favor in order to get rid of a useless betrothal.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Jaskier said bowing deeply. “I’ll have my Aunt Szarlotta send a message once our betrothal is fully extant.”

Iliana stood and shook his hand. “I’d appreciate that.”

“Our fathers were penpals,” Jaskier said. “Perhaps we should keep up the tradition?” 

The mayor inclined her head. “I’d like that. I may be too busy to write often.”

Jaskier waved a hand. “I can only pick up messages when I pass through Oxenfurt, but I like to make friends with powerful people.” 

The two of them shared a smile.

“Not to rush you out my door,” Iliana said. “But I do have a lot to do, winter comes early up here, and I know it does as well in Lettenhove. even with my help, you two should leave soon.”

Geralt and Jaskier left that afternoon, just after a hearty meal at the tavern.

-- -- -- -- -- --

Across the continent and some weeks later, Jaskier and Geralt stepped onto the docks in Novigrad.

“I don’t think Roach liked the river boats,” Jaskier said as Geralt led her off. Roach whinnied and shook her mane emphatically.

“Sorry, girl,” Geralt said. “You’ll have another long boat journey, and this time I doubt we’ll stop so you can run about on land.”

“Nah,” Jaskier said, as they walked toward a tavern for supper. “Boats from Novigrad to Lettenhove stop around the coast on the way, she’ll get plenty of exercise. It’s something to do with the currents.”

He petted Roach’s muzzle softly as they stabled her at the inn beside the tavern and Geralt felt his heart go out to his bard. Jaskier cared so much for Roach. Geralt thought again of the gold band in his pack.

“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s eat.”

-- -- -- -- -- --

Slightly more than a month later, after a slow, coastal boat journey, and then another between Inis Porhoest and Lettenhove, Geralt, Jaskier, and their faithful horse, stepped off the final boat.

“Welcome home, Master Julian,” said a fisherman on the dock.

“Does everyone here know you?” Geralt asked.

“Pretty much, there’s only about three hundred people here.”

News spread fast among three hundred people and Jaskier and Geralt were greeted enthusiastically at the door to the very small castle. A blonde woman who could only be Ksenia, Jaskier’s sister, flung her arms around him, and withing a moment Geralt was being gathered into the hug by a slightly older looking couple.

“Julek,” said the blonde man, pulling back. “My boy, you’re home, and you brought this stunning man, wow, what a looker.” 

“Papa, don’t be embarrassing,” Jaskier said. Geralt flushed clear to the roots of his hair. Apparently when Jaskier said he had his father’s personality he meant all of his father’s personality.

They had dinner as a family, including Jaskier’s niece and nephew, Cecylia and Prot. They had questions for Geralt, and he was grateful for the practice he’d had in Gwendeith. It was an enjoyable meal over all, and afterward Jaskier was distracted by his Aunt Szarlotta while Geralt slipped away to ask Mr. Pankratz a very important question.

The two of them returned to the main hall to see Jaskier pretending to be a dragon, while Cecylia and Prot bravely fought him with butterknives, but he straightened up when he saw the look on Geralt’s face.

Geralt took his hand and Jaskier squeezed it three times, it was their code, asking if Geralt needed to go somewhere that wasn’t so hard on his senses. Geralt smiled and shook his head, swallowing nervously around the lump in his throat.

He got down on one knee and pulled out the gold band. “I’m...I’m not good with words.” Geralt swallowed again, wishing he could borrow Jaskier’s eloquence for five minutes or so. “Marry me?”

The words were barely out from his mouth before Jaskier was tackling him to the ground, pressing kisses all over his face.

“Oh Geralt!” he said. “Wait--”

Jaskier looked up at his mother, who smiled and was handed a paper by his Aunt Szarlotta. Mrs. Pankratz ripped the betrothal contract in half.

“Yes,” Jaskier said, laughing. “I will marry you!”

Then they kissed on the chilly stone floor.

-- -- -- -- -- --

Dear Lady Iliana, Mayor of Gwendeith

The former contract has been voided. 

Szarlotta of Lettenhove

P.S. Geralt and Jaskier are engaged and send their love.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Holy Cow. 5603 words. I...I don’t even know what to say. I hope you like it.

[random-tinies]

The Quest For Blue

Some light-hearted Hurt No Comfort for a tiny Ghostbur as he searches for blue to give to his family. ^^ 2.1k words

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The day is like any other in Ghostbur’s ghostly life. The sun is shining, the sea breeze blows through Friend’s blue wool, and he’s hanging out with Tommy in front of his tnret. The tiny ghost flops on his pet sheep and points to the left. “Let’s go say hi to Tommy, Friend!”

Friend baas and trots over to the dirty crime boy. Ghostbur floats up and sits on his younger brother’s shoulder, floating a few millimeters above his clothing. “Hello, Tommy! Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?”

Tommy walks into his tnret and gives Ghostbur a strange look as if the small ghost had grown antlers. Ghostbur feels his head to make sure he didn’t. “No it’s not. It’s raining out.”

“What?”

Ghostbur looks back outside the tnret and sure enough, rain is pouring down on the small island. Lightning flashes and thunder rolls over the trio, sounding as if the sky was falling down. The small spector gasps and floats at the entrance. “Friend! Friend, come here! Don’t get wet! I won’t be able to hug you then!”

The docile sheep walks under the wool shelter and starts chewing on Tommy’s torn shirt. Ghostbur opens his mouth to scold his dearest sheep, but Tommy lets out a heavy sounding sigh that stirs a sour emotion in Ghostbur’s soul. He floats back up to him and asks, “What’s wrong, Tommy?”

His brother’s voice sounds about as gloomy as the sudden turn in weather outside. “I’ve done a lot of bad, Ghostbur. I’ve hurt a lot of people. I am alone. I have no friends.”

Ghostbur huffs and folds his arms. Are they not friends? Does Ghostbur not do his best to cheer Tommy up every day? “Well at least you have me! I’m your friend, Tommy!”

Tommy merely sighs and turns away. “I’ve hurt you, too, Ghostbur. You’re stuck here because of me.”

He tilts his head in confusion. “I chose to be here, Tommy! Lads on Tour, remember?”

Tommy lays on his bedroll and doesn’t respond. Ghostbur takes out some blue dye and sets it next to him. “Here, have some blue.”

The tall child closes his eyes, a quiet pained expression on his face. The ghostly tiny turns to his giant sheep and says, “This may take more blue than I thought. We’ll have to go out and find some!” He looks outside. “Oh, but the rain…”

“Baa!”

“Oh! You’re right, Friend!” Ghostbur beams at the blue sheep. “I can just walk under you!”

And so, the two set off through the rain, heading into an oak and birch forest that soon turns into a spruce forest with snow covering the ground. Ghostbur notices the snow drifts getting deeper and deeper until he’s forced to fly out from under Friend, who baas at him in protest to the cold snow, or risk melting in the ground. “I’m sorry, Friend! I was sure I was going the right way but we haven’t seen anything but red poppies here…”

A shadow falls over the duo and Ghostbur looks up. A large dark grey wing is extended above them and a tall, dark figure towers over them. A veil hangs off of his large green and white hat, hiding his face, and a dark grey and green robe falls off his shoulders. One wing is wrapped in bandages. Ghostbur smiles at the taller gentleman. “Hello, Phil!”

“Wil, what are you doing all the way out here in the snow? You’ll melt.” Although he can’t see his face, Phil’s voice is soft, interlaced with worry.

Ghostbur cheerfully answers him. “I’m getting blue for Tommy! Do you have any that I can use?”

A few tears drip down to the ground from under the veil. “All of the blue you gave me was used up, remember? I miss Wilbur.”

Ghostbur frowns, an uncomfortable feeling in his chest. “You sound like you could use more blue. I’ll make sure to stop by here on my way back and give you some when I find it!”

Philza doesn’t react to what he says. “Why are you all the way out here in the middle of a snow storm? Are you lost?”

Ghostbur shakes his head, then pauses and scratches the back of his neck, sitting atop Friend’s head. “We were trying to get back to L’manburg. I know I have some blue in my chests there!”

Philza shakes his head, the wind blowing the snow around them in a blindingly white swirl for just a second. “Oh, Ghostbur… L’Manburg is gone. It was blown up.”

A pit of dread forms in the tiny’s soul. His brows knit together and he looks at Philza in horrified confusion, denial already forming a wall in his mind. “What?”

The giant birdman points with an ominous finger ahead of them. “If you’d like to reach L’Manburg, go through that portal. The snow storm is picking up. You don’t want to be caught in it.”

Ghostbur blinks and looks ahead at the previously empty forest path. Sure enough, a Nether portal stands tall, the brilliant purple shine cutting through the snow with ease. “Oh, you’re right! Philza, would you- Oh!”

A gust of wind comes again and Ghostbur shuts his eyes and nestles into Friend’s wool to avoid the worst of the snow. When he looks up again, his father is gone, vanished into the strange pine forest. “Oh… Well, I suppose we’d better head into the Nether if we want to get that blue, Friend. Off we go!”

Friend trudges through the snow drifts and steps through the portal into the blistering heat of the Nether dimension. It’s oddly silent, no piglin sounds or ghast blasts to greet them on the other side. Just the ominous vwooping sound of the portal behind them as they step onto the warm netherack.

Ghostbur takes a shaky breath, gripping Friend’s wool in his hands. The sheep headbutts him lightly. He pushes back with a laugh. “Yes, yes, I know. Just a short walk, right? We won’t be here long enough for something bad to happen.”

And with that, the two set off into the Nether. Friend’s ears flick from time to time as they traverse the dry area. After a while, the scenery starts looking the same. He swears they’ve passed the same lava pit at least three times now. This trip is turning out to be much longer than he thought.

The silence is strangely deafening. The glow of the lava is harsh and Friend’s wool is gaining a reddish hue from brushing against the netherack. Ghostbur takes out some blue dye and reapplies it to the sheep’s wool with a sigh. “I think we may be lost. I don’t know who we’re going to ask for help, though! There’s nobody around for chunks…”

A gruff voice and footsteps surprise the duo. A large shadow looms over them. “Ghostbur? What are you doing here? It’s dangerous in the Nether.”

The spector smiles as he turns around and zooms up to greet his brother’s seemingly bored face. “Technoblade! What luck that you found us! Me and Friend were trying to find the portal to L’Manburg so I can get some blue for Tommy!”

He hugs the piglin hybrid’s snout and floats a ways in front of him. Technoblade sighs and gives Ghostbur a gentle pat on the head, hand phasing through the tiny ghost slightly. He starts to walk in the direction Ghostbur and Friend were heading. “They don’t call me the human GPS for nothing. I’ll show you the way.”

The suffocating atmosphere of the hellish dimension eases up on Ghostbur as he and Friend trot after him. He gladly starts babbling away to his estranged brother. “Oh, thank you, Techno! I was getting worried we would never find our way out of here. See, we were heading this direction but I think we were going in circles! I don’t remember ever turning but you know my memory.”

Techno fixes him with a pitiful stare for a moment, pausing. There’s an aching feeling that tugs at Ghostbur’s soul as he’s trapped by it. Oh, he thinks, Techno must be sad too. I’ll make sure to find him later and give him some blue too!

Ghostbur continues cheerfully rambling on. “I ran into Philza earlier too! He was… well, I don’t quite remember but he helped Friend and I find the portal here! Sort of like you are too, come to think of it-”

“We’re here.” Technoblade interrupts with his signature monotone inflection, gesturing to a simple nether portal and turning back towards them. “Be careful out there. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Oh! Don’t worry, Technoblade!” The tiny ghost gives him an award-winning smile. “I’m already dead! I can’t get hurt.”

The piglin hybrid gives him a wistful smile and a pat on the head for both of them. He opens his mouth to say something but a loud cry from a ghast interrupts him. He whirls around with a shining netherite sword and bats the incoming fireball away. “Go! I’ll hold it off!”

The sudden appearance of a ghast startles the two fellows but Ghostbur hangs onto Friend as the sheep bolts towards the portal after a fireball explodes near them. He closes his eyes as they charge through the purple gateway.

Panic spikes through Ghostbur as he comes out the other side alone, facing blackstone walls. Oh dear, this isn’t where he meant to end up. These are the walls inside the prison where Dream is kept. He spins in a circle, looking around the room. “Friend? Where did you go?”

The portal shatters, the pieces dissolving into the air. Warden Sam walks up behind him, fixing him with a suspicious look. “I thought you said you were alone. Who’s this friend you’re talking about?”

The tiny spector jumps at the sudden appearance of the creeper hybrid, the red eyes burning holes into his transparent form. “Oh! Oh, uh! Nobody! I came alone and there’s no one with me!” He can’t place it, but something about the situation is making him very anxious. Confusion swims through his mind. He must be forgetting something. “I must have left Friend outside with Tommy…”

Feeling down about this, he reaches into his pockets to pull out some of his emergency blue, but his pockets are empty. “Ah? Where are my things? My book? My blue?”

“You put them in the chest,” Sam says. “You can have it back when you’re done visiting the prisoner.”

“Okay…”

Ghostbur doesn’t remember wanting to visit the prisoner. He just remembers looking for more blue to give to his family. And now he is stuck following this very spooky man down a very spooky staircase to a very spooky wall of lava with no blue to take away his fear and no Friend to keep him company. How had he ended up here?

Slowly, the lava parts, forming a walkway to the prison cell where a white, porcelain head smiles at him. Despite the heat, a chill goes up his spine. Ghostbur grips his sweater and looks back at Sam for reassurance but there’s no sign the hybrid had even been in the room. “Um- S-Sam? Are you hiding?”

Ghostbur wishes he could hide too. He’s not sure he’s going to find any blue over here. He turns around and gasps, suddenly much, much closer to Dream than before. The lava closes behind him as the monster stands. Ghostbur doesn’t remember crossing the sea of lava to get here but he must have because now there’s nothing separating him from this… friend? Tormentor? He doesn’t remember.

His chest is heaving with air he doesn’t need as Dream casually steps towards him, the mouth on his chest grinning impossibly wide. Dread forms in the pit of his stomach as a clawed hand reaches for him. He curls in on himself floating in the air, tears pricking at his eyes, terror thrumming through his heart.

He jerks awake with a yell and looks around for Friend. The cold, dark walls of the subway greets him and he curls up on himself, careful not to touch the wet floor. Shadowy figures who shift and shake if he looks at them crowd around the tubeline. He hiccups, tears welling in his eyes and burning their way down his cheeks.

“Oh, that’s right… I’m alone…”

He grips the blue stain in his sweater. His voice is impossibly quiet.

“I have no blue and I have no Friend…”

He starts crying, missing his family members, missing his sheep, missing the blue he would use to calm down. He sniffles.

“I’m sorry… I just wanted to make you all feel better…”

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

SECOND CHANCE

Prompt: Just some good old fluff with Finny boy

Word Count: Long, bitch! So fucking long

Pairings: Finn Bálor x Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut (implied)

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @theworldofotps , @new-zealand-chic , @sassymox , @waywardwrestlewritingwaif , @yungbludjazz360 , @starwithaheart

Notes: Found this in an old file (wrote this about two years ago, maybe?) But I kinda like this little story ❤️ If you’d like to check out my previous works, you can find them on my Masterlist 😉

A deep sigh of relief left my lips as I brushed my damp hair. I heard a commotion in the living room, and began to dread the potential fight I would have to break up between a four and six year-old over a remote control.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!” Caleb screamed in excitement, while bursting through my bedroom door like a maniac

“You’ll never believe who’s downstairs with us” He jumped with a cheeky smile

“Cal, who’s downstairs?” I ask worryingly, instinctively reaching for the gun that I kept in my nightstand

Caleb laughed and ran downstairs again.

As a homicide detective, my cop instincts combined with my motherly instincts took over me and I ran to the living room in only a tank top and panties, with my gun already aimed to shoot.

Although, the last person I thought I would see standing there, braiding my daughter Maeve’s hair in a style reminiscent of queen Elsa, and watching Caleb showing off his somersault technique was HIM…

That caught me off guard and he must have sensed it, because the first thing he did was look up.

“Hi” He said shyly

“What are you doing here, Finn?” I asked, putting my gun down on the dinner table

“I swear I didn’t break in” He laughed, attempting a joke

“What do you want?” I decided to ignore the small talk...there was no need for that, not after everything he did

“I have an injury. So I have some time off for a while and I wanted to stop by to see the kids and you” He whispered the last part

“Injury, huh? Is it bad?”

Even after everything he did, I couldn’t help but worry about his well being, you know, for the kids sake!...

Ok fine, I still love him, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“No, nothing serious. But I got two months off and I was excited to see my family” He looked at me when he said that

“Are you going to see your parents?”

“Yeah and I was thinking if it would be ok with you if I take the kids with me?”

“Of course! Why would I mind?”

His family was always very loving and kind to me, and we became very close once the kids were born. Sometimes I would take them to Ireland on my vacation so they could see their grandparents or they would travel to New York so they could see the kids.

“Because of...you know” He trailed off

“Neither your family or the kids have anything to do with that. I’m a grown woman, Finn. I know how to separate the sheep from the goat, ok?!”

I could feel the air becoming thicker with the tension, until Maeve said

“Mommy, why aren’t you wearing any pants? Are you feeling hot? I can get you the Japanese hand fan daddy gave it to me, if you’d like” She smiled

“Thank you buttercup, but that won’t be necessary. I’ll be right back”

......................................................................

Now, properly dressed, I made my way towards the kitchen to get dinner ready.

“Do you need any help?” Finn asked from behind me

“No, thank you. You can go stay with the kids” I didn’t even bother to turn around to face him

“Y/N, can we talk?”

I sighed “There’s nothing worth talking about, Finn”

“Please?”

“What can you possibly say that will change what happened? Nothing! It will be a bunch of empty sorry’s and excuses, so let’s just save it, ok?!”

“It’s not empty, I truly am sorry”

“You should’ve thought that before you believed the bunch of lies she told you”

He opened his mouth to say something but Caleb began calling for him to go watch the cartoons with them.

......................................................................

“Mommy, can daddy have dinner with us?” Maeve asked

“Of course, pumpkin. If he would like to”

“Yay” She screams “Daddy, come!” She beckoned him

The subjects of conversation at dinner were mostly controlled by the kids. They, as per usual, asked me how many bad people I had taken down that day, but also asked Finn about his traveling, which state or city he liked the most, the best foods he’d eaten, which LEGO set was he building, if the hotel beds were soft and ‘what about the blankets?’

“Alright, I know you two are very excited to see daddy, but we need to brush those teeth! So, let’s go kiddos” I got up from my chair

“I’ll do it” He grabbed both kids, resting one on each side of his hip and went up to brush their teeth

When he came back down alone, I give him a questioning look

“They’re asleep” He smiled softly

“Oh, you already put them down for bed?! Thank you” I said, cleaning the kitchen island.

He nodded “I just didn’t bathe them because they said you already did”

“Yeah, that’s the first thing I do when I get home. Or my mom does it for me if I get caught up in a case, but most of the time I do it”

“How’s work?” He asked, sitting down on one of the high benches.

“Good, Richard is my superior again, so he helps me a lot with my shifts, because of the kids” I smiled

“The old man is still working?” He laughed, amused

“Yeah, he already said he will only leave his badge when he’s dead” I cackled “How’s road life? Amazing, I presume”

“Nah, don’t let the bright lights fool ya” He laughed, bitterly “I love wrestling, being in the ring, performing for the audience, but once I pass through the curtains backstage it gets lonely” A little bit of sadness could be heard in his voice “It’s very lonely... it’s different from when I came back home to you and the kids. Now I just get back to an empty apartment, wishing I could get back home” He looks at me

“Finn, please”

“I love you! Why can’t we just try again?”

“Because no!”

“Why?” He pleaded

“Because you don’t know what it was like ok?! You don’t know how much it hurt me, the things you said, the fact that you believed some envious woman’s gossip about me having an affair with Lucas! He’s married for fuck’s sake! To a man!”

“I- I didn’t knew Lucas was gay, Y/N”

“Yeah, you didn’t! And why is that? Oh yeah, because you did not trust your own wife, all you saw was the fact that he is a man and my work partner so you just bought the assumption that woman sold you, choosing to believe her instead of me!”

“It wasn’t like that, ok?” He tried to explain

“It wasn’t like that, you say? When you were the one who came in here filled with accusations! Saying that I had an affair with him, that I cheated on you, that you wished you would’ve slept with half of the women who throw themselves at you everyday, doubting that those kids upstairs are yours, when they’re the fucking spitting image of you! You said all those horrible things, Finn. Not me!”

He stared at his knuckles as I continued, now crying

“How do you think that made me feel? To listen from my own husband how much he wished he had cheated on me. Bragging about all of the hot young women who are waiting to be fucked by a wrestler...You know it was always hard for me to accept that you wanted me and not some hot girl in the locker room, that you had chosen me, that I got lucky enough to not only marry a man who’s physically breathtaking but also such a beautiful person on the inside. And still, it was that same Prince Charming who became the frog! I never thought that” I had to stop myself from saying the next horrible words roaming through my mind

“You never thought that, what, Y/N?”

I shook my head

“Say it”

I shook my head again and he got up from the bench, coming to where I was standing

“Say it, love. I can take it”

“I don’t want to say it” I whispered as more tears rolled down my cheeks

“Shhh, it’s ok, love” Finn pulled my head to his chest “Please don’t cry, I hate when you cry” His arms are tightly locked around me, providing me the sense of comfort that only he could give. And I hated that!

“Let me go” I tried to push him away

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”

“Just don’t touch me” I said, shoving him away

He knew that I was closing him off, I could see it in his eyes

“Say it! You never thought that what?” He insisted, more forcefully this time

“I never thought that someday I would regret meeting you! Marrying you, starting a family with you. If I could do it all again, I wouldn’t!” I spat

“You wouldn’t?” He scooted closer

“No” I answered with venom in my voice, trying to turn my undying love for him into hatred

“But I would!” Finn said firmly

I shook my head in denial, as he cupped my cheeks in his calloused hands, making me look up to meet his blue eyes

“I would do it, all over again. Meeting you, dating you, marrying you, having kids with you, in the future seeing the kids graduate high school, college, be at their wedding, take our future grandkids to the park, and spend the rest of my life with you! I would choose you over and over and over again! I choose you everyday, Y/N”

I squeezed my eyes shut

“You’re lying! Stop lying, Finn” I whispered

“Am I though? Open your eyes and look at me. I was never able to hide ANYTHING from you, I can lie to anyone but you. You can always see through me, so just look at me and tell me if I’m lying. If I am, then I promise you, I’ll leave this house right now and you’ll never have to see me again! Just open your eyes” He kissed each closed eyelid

After a few minutes, I gathered the courage to finally look at him and I could only see love, regret, pain and truth.

“I love you Y/N and always will. Yes, I was dumb to listen to some random gossip and I’m paying the price for it, but the only thing I ask you is: please, don’t give up on us! I’ll give you whatever time you need, just promise me that we’ll fix it. That we’ll be together again...You, Caleb and Maeve are my life! I would die to save you in a blink, love. If I had to choose between your life or mine I would choose yours, becau-“

I placed two fingers on his lips

“Stop talking like that! You know I don’t like it. It attracts those bad vibes, you know?”

Finn lightly chuckled “But I mean it”

“Stop! I don’t like when you talk like that... I hate to think that something bad could ever happen to you. You know, because of the kids” I tried to hide my feelings

“And you wouldn’t miss me, not even a little bit?” He teased

“I miss you everyday” I quickly slapped a hand over my mouth when I realized what I just said

He smiled sweetly, leaning down to place sweet and innocent pecks all over my face.

Finn started on my forehead, then he went to my temples, followed by the cheekbones, apple’s of the cheek, jaw, chin, side of my lips. Finn pulled back to search for any resistance signs and when he found none, he kissed my lips. A lazy kiss, that grew more urgent by the minute.

“Fuck, I missed you so much” He moaned, now kissing my neck

“Finn, wait. Wait a minute” I tried to pull his head back by his hair but that only made him moan.

“Finn!” I said harshly, finally having his attention

“What’s wrong, love? Don’t you want it? I thought that-“

“Have you seen anyone since we broke up?” I asked, not even letting him finish his sentence

“We didn’t break up! You asked me for some time and-“

“Finn, just answer the fucking question please” I pleaded

“No, I haven’t been with anyone in those 8 months. Except for my hand when I look at your pictures” He smirked

“You’re so ridiculous” I whispered in relief as my arms circled his waist

“So...do you still want to make love?” He eagerly asked

“We never made love, Finny. We’ve always fucked senseless” I laughed

“No! We’ve always made love it’s just that we’re more frantic about it” He chuckled

“Ok, we sleep together and then what?” I asked

“Then you stay here and I go back to my apartment” He simply said

My heart sunk in my chest as a faint “Oh, ok” left my lips

“So I can pack my clothes and bring them back home” He said, as a devilish smile grew on his face “That’s of course, if you want me here”

“Asshole” I lightly punched his chest “I thought you just wanted a one night stand and that’s it. You scared me!”

Finn chuckled, beckoning me closer to him

“You could never be just a one night stand, love. You fuck too good to be just a one time thing” He winked

“So you just want me for my bedroom skills, huh?” I teased

“Yes and no” He giggled “Yes, because no other woman fucks like you do” He bit my neck, growling “And no, because there’s so much more about you than the bedroom” He hugged my waist “You’re my best friend, my nurturer, my supporter, the air that keeps me alive, my everything!” He kissed me passionately

“Can we try again? Start over and leave all that shit behind us?” He whispered

“If you promise me that if we get back together, you won’t listen to other people’s gossip and will come to me whenever you hear somethi-“

“Yes!” He pecked my lips excitedly, as a wide smile took over his face “I promise you, love! That’ll never happen again, you have my word!” He gave me a bear hug and spun me around the kitchen

“Finn!” I squealed, when we almost fell to the ground “We’re going to wake up the kids” I giggled

“Oh no, shhhh” He shut me up with a kiss “We can’t let that happen! Because as much as I love our children, I haven’t gotten any in eight months and I can’t wait to change that with you right now” He pushed us towards the couch and laid on top of me

“But I thought you were going to go and get your clothes”

“I don’t need clothes, woman! You know I like to sleep naked” He winked

And roamed his head down to...

Please, if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

[johannstutt413]

(requested by mathmaticalknight; continuing from this)

The day Saria and Nian returned, Silence was at the arrival terminal, ego on her sleeve. “Good afternoon. Is this public enough a place, Nian?”

“‘Public enough...’ What’s going on here, dear?” The Sarkaz glanced between the two, unaware of the deal that’d been struck.

“The Law of Equivalent Exchange.” The Nian nodded to the Liberi. “Go ahead.”

She took a composing breath. “I apologize for giving you so much grief over your relationship with Nian and how you’ve handled her files. You deserve your happiness as much as I deserve mine, whatever form that takes, and doctor-patient confidentiality doesn’t go away simply because I want it to.”

“Oh...Apology accepted, then. Thank you. Is that why you needed the files, then?” Saria’s attention immediately went back to her lover.

“Yup.” Nian slid a file out of her cracked-open luggage. “There you go. Knock yourself out.”

The Medic promptly did for a moment, as her narcolepsy took hold; luckily, Ptilopsis was waiting in the wings, and with the help of a cart was able to get her back to their office.

Saria smirked. “You know she can’t read Ancient Terran, of course.”

“There’s only one person who can, and something tells me she won’t like what she sees. Let’s go get lunch - those little pretzel bags weren’t nearly enough for a proper meal.”

“Yeah. Hey, Nian?” Something else came to the mind of the ex-Security professional, though. “You didn’t change anything about the results, did you? They’re still accurate?”

The Nian gave her a sly smile. “Oh, the numbers are all accurate, it’s all about the presentation...”

--------------------------------

Once they were back in the office, and both Liberi were actually awake at the same time, Silence opened the folder and, inevitably, sighed. “Of course she did.”

“Scanning document...97% match to a dialect of Ancient Terran from what is now Great Yen. No one has spoken this dialect in thousands of years, Liv.”

“That bi- wait a minute.” Olivia felt the gears turn into place. “Kal’tsit. If anyone here can read this cursed thing, besides Nian or perhaps her recluse sister, it would be Dr. Kal’tsit. We’ll take it to her.”

Ptilopsis nodded and, after a moment’s pause, gave Silence a tender pat on the shoulder. “A month ago, I couldn’t imagine you asking her for help like this.”

“A month ago, I wasn’t engaged to my closest confidante, either. Now, let’s go make medical history.”

There was no point in calling ahead - too great a delay in the lead Liberi’s eyes - so the pair went directly to Kal’tsit’s office and, conveniently, found her at her desk. “Yes?”

“We have Nian’s exam results.” The Feline leapt to her feet. “She translated them into Ancient Terran, but we have them. Will you translate them?”

“What did you have to do to get these?” Monst3r plucked the file from the Liberi’s hands and brought it to their master.

Tilly chirped as Olivia tried to look like the question didn’t annoy her. “Swallow my pride, somewhat...You look concerned now that you’re reading it. Is something wrong with the translation?”

“I...if I translate this file in its entirety, there will be riots.” Dr. Kal’tsit sighed, tossing it onto her desk. “To continue reading it would mean you would know I know its contents, and I know how persistent you are - an admirable trait, but in conjunction with whatever else that file contains, one that would shatter our understanding of the world at its seams.”

“That sounds like all the more reason to translate it and keep it secret-”

The Feline rolled her eyes at the arguing researcher. “Secrets are only as secure as their keepers, and one of us in this room is Rhodes Island’s data archivist extraordinaire. I’m sorry, Dr. Silence, but that’s too grave a risk.”

“...After all this, the final answer is ‘we can’t know?’” Silence was shaking. “I, I, Dr. Kal’tsit please-”

“Liv?” Ptilopsis wrapped herself around the other Liberi’s right arm. “Diαbolic Crisis.”

That stopped her cold. “I...I take your point, love. If the information is truly that disastrous, Dr. Kal’tsit, then I resign myself from the file’s custody. Do what you will with it - read it, destroy it, feed it to Eyjafyalla’s sheep. I wash my hands of it. Good day.”

“Thank you, Dr. Silence.” The gratitude bounced entirely off the researcher as she left, admittedly, but it couldn't be said that she didn’t try.

“Scanning subject...Mood analyzed.” Tilly hadn’t let go of Olivia’s arm since taking hold. “I’m sorry to remind you, Liv. It was the quickest way to express my point.”

Silence stopped after a few more steps and sighed. “You know me too well if you could see the warning signs so quickly. No breakthrough is worth repeating that incident, but I’d hoped I’d learned better. I guess not.”

“You learned to stop yourself when reminded. Progress: 67%”

“Only 33% more, then?” The Liberi resumed walking to their cart. “I should be able to manage that. Could you drive us home, love? I’m feeling a bit faint.”

As the lovebirds sat in the vehicle and almost immediately suffered simultaneous bouts of narcolepsy, Dr. Kal’tsit reviewed the file they’d given her, and it was just as she’d expected.

Nothing extraordinary. Perplexing, perhaps - a regenerative power much like Whisperain’s but with a long period of dormancy between resurrections, a substantial amount of strength and durability but nothing not outdone by Saria herself, a lack of Originum in the Nian’s system and little Arts potential - but nothing that Rhodes Island hadn’t seen in some measure before. Had Silence seen those results, there would have been no end to the pestering, the feuding, the distrust, because there was no way it could be so simple, certainl- “Wait...She didn’t translate this note at the bottom.”

‘Dr. Kal’tsit: If you’re reading this, it means Silence did what I expected; if you’re alone in your office right now, it means she actually exceeded that. You have my full permission as Saria’s patient to hang onto this file for your own records. Whatever you decide, I just want to say thanks. That exam was worth the trouble, 110%, and it couldn’t have happened without Rhodes Island or you. Tell the Doctor that, too, for me. I might not have the time to tell him myself. Busy, busy, busy.

-Nian.’

“Busy?” The Feline smirked as she put the file through the shredder. “Busy doing what?”

More like “who,” honestly.

[stattieboi]

Adventurer's Log - 4

:( March 21st 2022 1:31am

It's been a long time since I've adventured. I didn't want to be alone, so I decided to do nothing instead, but in the end I ventured out on my own.

I was very unsatisfied with how the grass was growing in the sheep farm. Because of the rainbow order or the pens, I have plenty of red wool at my disposal, but I'm going to have to wait a long while more before I can say the same for my white sheep. I thought to track down more Enderman and kill them for their grass blocks, but it rained a lot, and even when it wasn't raining, I couldn't find hide nor hair of them. So I just contented myself to make several trips to the lighthouse with the red and white I had. Whenever I saw wild sheep, I sheared them too, so I got a lot of my white wool that way. I made about three trips back and forth to the lighthouse I believe. On the side I tried to fix my Nether Portals, but Whatever I did, it didn't work. They're still broken. It could be worse though. Anyway, I made a fair amount of progress on the lighthouses stripes. I also filled in the second levels floors. I'm not sure how to decorate it all though.

On about my fourth trip to the lighthouse, I was confident I knew the way without my map. Apparently I was wrong, because I found myself distracted by a shipwreck! I got some cool loot from it, some sorely needed iron, some Lapis Lazuli and some enchanted armor. I did die like three times in my pursuit of the loot, which sucked, but I pulled through. And it lead to even more cool loot when I kept exploring the area.

A little beyond the shipwreck, ended up at the spruce island I've found before (also on accident lol). I was still planning on ending up at the lighthouse at some point, so I turned right and traveled up the coast for a bit. I wasn't planning to get out of the boat, but I was passing a lot of coal, so I decided to just yolo it and mine some. I must have the worst best brain, cause after mining the coal, I discovered a secret chest hidden under the ore! Inside was a potion of water breathing, three iron ingots, some chainmail armor, a heart of the sea and a diamond!!! Not only was this SUPER surprising, but I'm so happy I found a diamond, because now I have all the ingredients to finish my enchanting table!!!

I explored a bit more on the way home, and found some new berries on the way too. I was chalk full of resources, so I wanted to make sure I got home safe. In the end I managed it, although I had a few close calls with some Drowned. At this point in my adventure, I've forgotten all about the lighthouse for now. I was just discovering that there was a lot more to this world than I let myself believe. And on top of that, these new islands are super close to my home island! I want to rally my friends and go adventuring with them soon. I spent the rest of my evening trying to map out some of the new nearby areas, as well as my own island. I love that all the hard work I've put into my home shows up on the map. It fills me with pride.

In the future, I hope to explore more of the surrounding islands with my buddies, and map them and gather resources in the process. I also hope I can track down some Endermen so I can steal their grass blocks and therefore help my sheep farm be productive. Finally, I hope to add more to the lighthouse Dovah started. Working on it always reminds me of him, so I love working on it.

I am sleepy now. Dogs are cute. Goodnight!

- *Stat*

[archetypal-archivist]

My Beloved, Penis

Fuck it. I was infected by Penis SMP by @demonboyhalo reblogging a bunch of it and the lack of consistent lore bugged me, so I somehow banged out 2000+ words of fanfic about the Penis SMP and how it got started. Lots of internet humor and classic MInecraft shenanigans in this one folks. *slaps roof* This baby can fit so much crack treated seriously, lol. This is also up on my AO3, Zazibine, if you would prefer to read it there.

_-_-_-_

It was never supposed to get so big. It was just an SMP with a couple friends of his he had met from the Hypixel discord server, where he had logged on simply to trash talk the absolute asshole who had dared to kill him last minute in bedwars, only to stumble upon said asshole- going under the name shittyfartbaby69 of all things- complaining to his girlfriend(?) Milfboss in the voice chat. Thirty minutes later of awkward hellos and the manliest of bitching at each other (with Milf chiming in every once in a while to roast them both), and PenisUnavailable had perhaps his first Minecraft friend in, like, forever.

Then Admiral_Anus had entered chat, bitching about his competitor in ABBA Mining and his bullshit bad luck and the whole process repeated. By the end of the day, Penis had three new friends, a private discord server for the four of them, and a promise to meet up with them in Hypixel next Sunday for the ultimate round of bedwars.

The game went spectacularly. Somehow, Admiral had some of the best bridging skills any of them had ever seen, and between Milfboss' terrifying Scottish screaming and pvp and Shitty with his clutch TNT skills, the three of them almost made up for Penis' awful depth perception. They still lost around forty percent of their games, but that was certainly better than Penis' own abysmal record, not helped with his habit of walking off the edge at inconvenient times.

And it was... fun. Usually bedwars was just him playing in his bedroom alone for an hour before he rage-quit and went back to survival for a bit before he died to fall damage and rage quit that too. But shittyfartbaby69 would crack dirty jokes that he'd never even heard of before, and Milfboss would roast him for looking it up on reddit and Shitty would cuss her out as he tried to prove that no, he was being original- all while Admiral would comment of them as if they were a sideshow display. Then Admiral_Anus would turn around and knock an enemy player off their island with some clever pvp and they would all hoot and holler and swear for a while before going back to their conversation, joking about forgetting the topic and starting up a running gag about something new.

And their accents, mmm. PenisUnavailable would never say it, but he really was as American as white Wonder bread and Milfboss' Scottish brogue, Admiral's smooth British snark, and Shitty's shrieking in Australian, well. Ear candy, you know? Even if he teased them mercilessly for pronouncing shit wrong, like "buhguhr". Ppffttt, it still cracked him up how Milfboss had threatened to murder him after the dictionary app on his phone had proved him right that it was actually "Bur-gur", even if Admiral kept insisting it was pronounced "bruh-girl".

Four hours and twenty-eight wins later, they had agreed to meet up the next day to play again, preferably at an hour that wasn't two am for Shitty again. (It was two am for Shitty again, although that was because they played for six that time.) Eventually, it just became a regular thing, them playing bedwars and competing at ABBA Caving- the one game Penis was unnaturally good at, much to Admiral's annoyance- to the point where they ran out of funny jokes about their competitors and the game itself and started talking personal anecdotes.

Milfboss owned a motorcycle. Admiral, entirely independently, also owned a motorcycle, as that was the only vehicle of reasonable speed and style that could actually handle the London traffic. Shitty couldn't drive at all, something about never passing his driving test. Admiral ate cheese at breakfast. Shitty liked to burn his garbage in a metal oil drum in his backyard. Milfboss posted herself singing covers of shit over on Youtube. And it wasn't just real life stuff either- their minecraft skills were also on the table for them all to collectively roast.

Admiral had never seen a single Minecraft Championship. Milfboss thought a flat cobblestone roof was entirely acceptable. Shitty's favorite block was the flint and steel. (That's not a block, sixty-niner. Shut up, is too. OoOh, real clever, 'shut up'! Uh, how about no? How about I fuckin' make you, ever think 'a that? No nono nonono, I'm on two hearts! I'm on two hearts, stop!) It made him curious, honestly. He wanted to see Milf's builds for himself, get revenge on Shitty, see if Admiral really could beat the Ender Dragon with a knockback stick like he said he could.

So he made a minecraft server. And they all joined it. (And stuck PenisUnavailable with the bill, suckaaahhh~!)

Predictably, it all went to Hell in a hand basket pretty quick.

See, it's one thing to play with nutters like his friends in a structured set up like Hypixel games, it's quite another to try and keep a semblance of order in an open world survival server like the Penis SMP. The first five minutes had been him trying to explain the rules and teleporting everyone back to spawn over and over as they tried to "escape the cops," ie, him. The next five minutes was Shitty scream-laughing "scatter!" and other John Mulany references down the mic as everyone ran off to start their houses. Penis, as he was still "god" at that moment, used admin commands to find the closest flower field biome to settle into, hoping for some- ha- peace and quiet.

Shitty, inevitably, ended up trying to settle in the fucking Nether. Like a mad lad, you know, as you do when you are apparently obsessed with all things lava. Milfboss ended up making an oak plank box of a "tree house" in a dark oak forest, while Admiral_Anus picked a nearby swamp for his starter base. Outside of that, they just kinda vibed in discord as they tried to fend off the mobs and get enough resources to try and build up houses that were a bit more than cobblestone towers and wood boxes- er, mostly. Milf kinda just fucked off to go mining, found a skeleton spawner by chance, and made a set of iron gear to stand in the dungeon room with to just chill and kill mobs for a while. She ended up with something like 45 levels and burned her only diamond on an enchanting table so she could buff the Hell out of her iron weapons and armor.

Penis, rather typically, he though to himself, put together a basic sheep farm and started work on a cute little cobblestone cave base. He managed to get a whole twenty by twenty block room done and fully furnished before he noticed the chat full of Shitty's death messages and went to go investigate. After nearly dying in lava twice, he managed to find Shitty's pile of items floating on a basalt pillar about a hundred blocks out from his... base?

It was a soccer ball. Shitty's base was a perfect fucking spherical soccer ball made up of quartz blocks and basalt. Just. What. The Fuck??? Then out popped shittyfartbaby69 and it was PenisUnavailable's turn to misjudge a jump and plummet right into lava. Fifteen minutes and much shrieking later about losing his diamond pick, and it turns out that Shitty didn't really care about his lost items, as he really only had four gold picks, a stack of dark oak, two furnaces, a bucket, and thirteen cooked mutton to his name. Not even a bed, the fucker. He just ran back to his portal from spawn every time he just burned to death, taking the chance to gather resources on the way back each time.

And no, he wasn't following a tutorial for his "football" base. Jerk. (Although Penis did have to admire his determination...)

The day ended on Milfboss, Shitty, and Penis reconvening back at spawn to try and hunt down Admiral_Anus, who they found later having built a thirty block tall castle of all things. Out of cobble stone and the windows weren't quite even, but still, it was pretty impressive. And of course, when presented with a castle, what can what do but siege it? So they lay siege to the castle and Milfboss curb-stomped Admiral in pvp and laid claim to the throne, crowning herself queen before summarily throwing the rest of them out. It was a good day.

And the day after was a good day. They played dodge ball crossed with hide and seek in forest around Penis' house with arrows supplied by Milfboss. And the day after that, too, where they had a building competition using nothing but cobble stone, specifically to spite Milfboss, who had kicked all of their asses the day before. In fact, three wonderful weeks passed of doing normal Minecraft shit and being friends passed by, and every bit of it was great fun.

And then came the fucking role play.

PenisUnavailable would have liked to preface that with he only participated under duress, but really, Milfboss had been queen for too long and nobody wanted to risk TNT cannoning any of Shitty's nice builds, so. Well, the castle was better than his drafty cave, alright? It was cold and wet and didn't have a proper door because aesthetic (and because it usually took him several tries to work an iron pressure plate door), so there were far too many mobs wandering in at night and spawn camping him. He and Shitty had almost the same number of deaths and Shitty lived in the fucking Nether.

So yeah. Castle time, baby! Daddy needs a new home! And Admiral obviously wasn't happy living out of Milf's awful tree house hot box where they all did drugs together on day fifteen and it still smelled of burnt wheat seeds, aka "weed." It was only obvious that they teamed up to try and take back the castle.

The battle itself didn't exactly go great, but it wasn't exactly horrible either. A lot of shouting shit at each other for fifteen minutes, the majority of which he wouldn't remember until it was too late- something about server unity?- only to find out that it wasn't two on one girl boss, it was two on a girl boss and her "baked out of his mind" henchman, also known as Shitty in a squirrel furry skin.

The ears man. Those stupid (cute) ears.

And then they were running for their lives because Milf had somehow gotten her hands on a flame bow with infinity enchants.

It all culminated in a dramatic stand-off in front of Shitty's Nether Soccer ball, Milf on one side, diamond axe in hand, not a bit of armor on because of an unfortunate run in with lava, Penis and Admiral on the other, picks in hand, threatening to tear down shittyfartbaby69's base. Shitty wasn't online just then to comment, but they could all hear him click-clacking away on his keyboard so he obviously hadn't gone to sleep just yet like he said he had. At an impasse, and unable to justify letting her teammate's home be used as collateral, Milfboss stood down and gave up her "crown," an enchanted golden Prot IV helmet she had gotten off a skeleton from her spawner.

Then the great betrayal, the beginning of the end. Shitty came back online. 96-Cam joined the game, not that they noticed in the chaos. Admiral-Anus cackled wildly and PMed Milfboss the message that Shitty had sent him, giving Team Gay Sex permission to tear down his base in the name of winning the war if it came down to it- making Milf's sacrifice worthless in the end. Penis gave another dramatic speech, circling around Shitty, who was acting weirdly apologetic to Milf about betraying her and still wearing that fucking squirrel furry skin.

"You see Milf, there's one thing more powerful than a girl boss, and when it comes down to wars between kingdoms, there's something you need to remember!" Penis got out his golden ax, helpfully labeled 'Piss Off'.  "And that's a dilf with something to lose!" An enderpearl in his off hand and he teleported behind Milf, catching on fire from the lava but still landing the last hit needed to finish her off. She puffed into a cloud of EXP, swearing up a storm, and then Admiral and Penis turned their gaze to the cheering Shitty.

"AAAAAYYY, LET'S GO DADDY!" the squirrel man screeched, wild laughter shorting out the discord voice chat, making him go quiet in patches when the volume overloaded the client. Behind him, Admiral quietly started building a chair out of birch fence posts and slabs.

"Not so fast, shit-ty-fart-baaaaa-byyyyy~, this isn't quite over yet!" Penis fucking chirped, barely holding back his laughter. "You're still a fucking traitor and we can't have you backstabbing us too. Get in the chair for Daddy, okay baby?"

Admiral finished the chair just in time for Shitty to turn around and see the completed monstrosity, shrieking dying off immediately. "Oh screw you, that's just mean. The Hell man? That's not a chair, that's illegal. If you want an electric chair or some shit, just ask. That's just sad." Mentally shrugging, Admiral lit up his work with a flint and steel while Penis pillared up above where Shitty was building an electric chair out of iron bars and trap doors. Admiral nudged Shitty into the chair, Penis dumped a bucket of lava over the edge of the pillar so it flowed over him, and Shitty started giving a soliloquy about how betrayal and how his love for his "Daddy" still "burned strong".

Like his dick. Apparently.

By the time the lava finally hit the floor and burned Shitty to death, Penis was crying with laughter, shrieking down the mike and banging on the desk hard enough to make him forget that his was still on the mouse, making him mine the block under him with the bucket and sending him hurtling to his fiery death too.

It was a good day... almost.

Because, as it turned out, shittyfartbaby69 was actually a tiktokker of some renown and his cam account had record everything. And he had uploaded the bit to tiktok, as you do, where it went viral, where it wasn't supposed to. And Milfboss, who had recently been uploading covers of herself singing old classic Minecraft songs, had attracted the Minecraft fandom kids to her twitter, where she had gone to post her rage about the events of her dethroning and Shitty's execution.

Penis SMP had gotten on. Fucking. Trending. And now everyone was demanding the full clip, their names, their Twitch streamer handles, their characters' backstories.

The masses wanted lore.

Penis watched in disbelief, head in his hands and mouth agape as sugar crash played over a clip of him killing Milf on loop.

They were making memes.

...Oh god. They were screwed.

[seasonsofeverlark]

Family Prayer

Author: @mega-aulover​

Prompt: Buttercup and Diwali are not things that go together. So even though Katniss dosen't like him much, she and Peeta try to make things easier for Buttercup on that day. [submitted by @everlurked​]

Rating: Fluffy G

Author’s Note: This is a story about Diwali and wouldn’t have been possible without @cadsingh77​ who spent weeks allowing me to ask all sorts of questions about Diwali and what it means to her. I patterned it on her descriptions. She read it, as well, to make sure there were no cultural faux pas. I apologize if there is anything amiss. Also, I’m remiss if I do not mention @norbertsmom​ who at the eleventh hour betaed this story. She’s my rock my bestie, and I would be nothing without her.

__________

Peeta glanced at his suit in the closet. His hands shook. 

In a few hours he was going to meet the family of the love of his life. 

He looked at the phone in his hands. He was lying in bed researching everything Diwali. His girlfriend Katniss had gone over the topic. She explained that just as sunset happens an elaborate puja, a prayer ceremony is done in a temple to begin the holiday. But to most Trinidadians or Trinis, as she called herself, like her family, they said little personal prayers in front of Laxmi, Saraswati and Ganesh and then they would light the diyas, little clay lamps, that they were going to placed in all of the rooms of the house. 

Katniss made it all sound so simple. Diwali was a celebration of light. A victory over darkness. A day to wear new clothing, beautiful jewelry, sing, dance, pray, and light diyas. Katniss said any other guests would arrive after the prayers and they would have a ton of food and everyone would eat and hang out, kids would light sparklers, and there would be singing and dancing too. 

Curious, Peeta watched every Bollywood movie on Netflix. Movies, however, never really explained everything. He put the phone down. He had to  be honest with himself; Katniss’ assurances aside, he was a fish out of water no matter what he did. He was going to meet the most important people in Katniss’s life, her family.

In contrast, his parents were Dan and Cindy from Port Jefferson, Long Island. They owned a bakery near the ferry. They were dull people, they were like the parents of Ian Miller from My Big Fat Greek Wedding. But a lot colder and more dysfunctional, dressed in tans and beiges. Peeta constantly questioned why they would own a bakery that matched the color of bland. They never veered from the menu. Never introduced a new seasonal baked good. Peeta was stuck in that rut until he met Katniss and his entire world changed and color was introduced into his life.

Katniss was the electric jolt that kickstarted his dull heart to life. 

The first time he tasted roti, the buttery tasting flat bread he literally cried. 

From the pictures that Katniss shared of her family, he could tell they were a riot of awesomeness. 

Katniss and her parents hailed from Trinidad and Tobago. Her family moved to Long Island from Germany. Her father was an engineer and physicist. He worked at the superconductor in Germany and then came to Long Island so that he could work on a project at Brookhaven National Laboratory. Her mother worked at Stony Brook University. She ran the nursing department. 

Peeta and Katniss both attended Stony Brook University. He was on his way to a yoga class and she was in her Pink boxing class. From the glass covered room Peeta watched her hit the punching bag like Joe Fraser, and he was a goner. Peeta had a thing for strong women. His first middle school girlfriend bossed him and made him carry her books to and from class and he was a sucker for her, but she broke his heart. She told him she was only using him to get to his older brother Ryan. Peeta battled so much darkness in his life and what he needed was to chase the darkness away and to let the light into his heart. But he couldn’t deny he liked strong women. 

There was something about a strong alpha woman who knew how to get things done, unlike his mother who was passive aggressive, and banged the pots in the kitchen and slammed refrigerator doors. 

He sighed as he worried about tomorrow. He googled Diwali’s greetings and butchered the language as he tried to speak in Hindi. 

Peeta sighed heavily.

Katniss’s mother invited him over the phone. She wanted him to come over before the prayers began. It was an honor because he was Katniss’ boyfriend, someone she chose despite her father trying to get her to date the son of a friend of his. Katniss put her figurative foot down and claimed she was dating Peeta. Her father didn’t want to meet him, but he knew of him. 

So the pressure was on to be perfect. He didn’t want to say or do the wrong thing, especially in front of her family. His hands shook, this was important. He wanted to make a good impression on Katniss’ family, even if her father didn’t like him or the idea of him. Peeta wanted them to like him because, truth be told, his own family didn’t like him. 

Peeta loved his family, but ever since he was little, he knew he didn’t fit into the landscape of his family. He was labeled as the emotional one. He was too irreverent for them. Peeta liked color. He loved to paint. He enjoyed the change in seasons where his family loved one season, summer, because they generated the most money then. 

His family liked one or two flavors. Peeta loved all flavors, spicy ones, bold ones, subtle ones. They hated that he was always pushing to change the menu at the bakery. His childhood room was always the one his parents never showed off, because as a teen he painted the walls of his room every shade of orange. Peeta knew they sighed in relief when he decided to stay in the dorms at Stony Brook. His football scholarship allowed him to have that opportunity. He trained hard, studied hard, and loved hard. 

“Katniss,” her name escaped his lips like fervent prayer and a wish. He loved her, was consumed by her, and he was so overly happy that she invited him to meet her family for Diwali. And now he had so much pent up energy he couldn’t sleep. 

His teammates made fun of him, because he got a goofy lopsided I-got-my-hippopotamus-at-Christmas type grin, whenever Peeta thought of Katniss. He closed his eyes picturing her olive skin, thick straight dark hair braided into a rope, small pert nose, and silvery eyes that were breathtaking. Though it wasn’t her physical parts that made him fall in love. It was the woman who lay beneath the surface.

What made him sit up and take notice of Katniss after he saw her box, and he was out of the yoga room, was that there was a blonde girl at the gym working out. There were these idiots guys making fun of her, calling that poor girl fat, just because she was full figured. Katniss walked straight up to the guys and gave them a scowl full of fire and brimstone, called the girl hot and told her that if she were gay she’d do her in an instant. Then she told the guys that they could jackknife themselves off the roof of the building. Peeta had never seen anything sexier in his life. Katniss was full of fire and she was resplendent more so than the sun. 

His phone buzzed drawing him away from his memories as the message came in.

KATNISS: Why are you still up?

Peeta grinned, his phone betrayed him. In some phones a little dot showed up next to the person when they were on their phone. Katniss must have noticed. 

PEETA: Stalk much.

KATNISS: LOL

Peeta could see those three little dots moving as she wrote a reply. 

For the most part Katniss wasn’t a talker. Unless she was passionate about the topic and then she was a chatterbox.

KATNISS: FUNNY. Seriously, tomorrow is going to be a long day. You need to sleep.

PEETA: Because tomorrow I am going to meet your family.

Peeta could see her rolling her eyes even through the phone.

KATNISS: You don’t have to be nervous. 

PEETA: If you tell me all I have to do is be myself, I swear I am going to come dressed as Buddy the Elf.

KATNISS: Dork.

PEETA: Yes, but I’m your dork.

KATNISS: They’re going to love you.

Peeta sighed. 

PEETA: This is important. I want to make a good impression. Your family is important to you and given that my family…

Peeta sighed. He’d brought Katniss to the bakery to meet his family because they didn’t have time for him. His father was pleasant. His mother, however, spoke loudly and slowly as if Katniss didn’t speak English. Katniss spoke various languages and was extremely intelligent. Her mother wanted her to be a doctor, but Katniss had a passion for the environment. Her major was environmental studies, with a minor in geology. She was brilliant and he felt like the dumb jock.

KATNISS: Your family is fine, well except for Ryan. Someone needs to examine him.

Peeta chuckled. His brother Rye stared at Katniss as if she was Christmas, Easter, and summer vacation all rolled up into one. He then proceeded to flirt with Katniss, by using every campy movie line known to mankind. In typical Rye fashion because he’d done it before to their other brother Lyle. Unfortunately in that instance the girl in question dumped Lyle to go out with Rye. 

He sighed. That was his dysfunctional family. Family gatherings were uncomfortable events. They weren’t exactly nice to one another.

PEETA: I have no excuse for my brother.

Peeta decided to follow his text with a self deprecating joke. A truth, his family thought him the odd one in the family. 

PEETA: But Ryan isn’t the bad apple. I’m not sure you know this, but I am the black sheep of the family.

KATNISS: You mean the sexy one.

A grin spread on his face at her compliment. 

Katniss’ family was conservative, and by extent, so was Katniss. He respected her boundaries and her values.  Family was everything to her and he loved her because of it, Katniss would lay her life on the line for her family. 

PEETA: Have I told you today how much I love you.

KATNISS: No, but I do love to hear you say it.

Peeta pressed the little microphone and recorded his voice, which sounded rougher to his ears than normal.

PEETA: (a voice email) I love you Katniss. I love your mind. I love your kindness. I love how you always talk about your sister Prim. I love the way you adore your dad. I love the way you look up to your mother. I think you are the most beautiful soul. And I am nervous because if you are wonderful, then your family has to be just as great.

He meant every word. 

They’d been dating for the last few months, but they’d been friends for two years. They weren’t easy years because of their schedules in school and the fact that her father had a mild heart attack right after they met. Peeta put himself in the friend zone because that’s what Katniss needed. He didn’t want her to feel pressure to feel romantic toward him when her dad, the most important man in her life, was ill. 

In the end, the bonds of friendship grew to a love so sweet and pure, that it shined out of her silver eyes. The first time she realized the love she held for him was more than friendship left him breathless, like stepping into a world filled with brilliant colors, light and joy. 

KATNISS: (a voice email) I love you too.

Her voice was breathy and filled with her heartfelt emotion.

Peeta couldn’t help but sigh contentedly.

KATNISS: Now as for tomorrow, don’t worry. When they see what a great guy you are, they will love you.

Peeta sighed.

KATNISS: NOW GO TO SLEEP, MELLARK!

PEETA:  Yes ma’am.

He grinned and would have followed her directions, but instead he stood from his bed and went into his suite kitchen. He needed to bake. It was the only thing he knew that would calm him down. He decided to make chocolate using the vegetarian items he purchased in the store. Come the morning he would make the Laddoos he planned to bring with him. In Hindi they were called Laddu but in Trinidad they were known as Laddoo.

Making the chocolate eased his nerves, so he actually got some sleep. In the morning, he showered and set to work on making the Laddoos. By three o’clock he was done, and all he had to do was wrap up the presents. Taking a red ribbon, he tied each box the way he’d done so many times at the bakery. 

His suitemates were gone. No doubt causing trouble somewhere on campus, which gave Peeta the time he needed to get ready. He took out his new suit. Even though Katniss told him he could wear a nice pair of slacks and shirt, Peeta bought a suit that was on sale for the special occasion. 

Taking a deep breath he took the small presents he had for her family. They weren’t necessary, but he wanted to make a good impression. He gathered up the Laddoos, the chocolate, the flowers - marigolds he sourced at the local home depot, and the paintings he made of her family made from the memory of the pictures she’d shown him. 

He drove, heading to the Everdeen home in Mount Sinai. The cottage-like house looked like something out of a movie or TV show: warm, inviting, like a real home, one filled with love, and not pretend.

As he walked up, he could hear laughter, genuine laughter, followed by singing and joy. Running a hand through his blond wavy locks he took a deep breath. “Okay Mellark, just be yourself,” he whispered, as he stood in front of the door.  

He raised his hand to knock on the door and his breath caught at the man standing there looking more like a navy seal instead of a physicist. This was Katniss’ dad. His chrome eyes were hard and they took him apart, much the way a defensive end could read a play and pick it apart while holding their defense line.  

“Happy Diwali.” Peeta tried to say confidently but his voice cracked. He could feel himself sweating.

Her father raised an eyebrow. “You are Peeta Mellark.”

Peeta nodded.

“Rahul!” A statuesque woman with blonde hair and pale blue eyes swatted Katniss’ father’s arm. He watched her sneak around him, dressed in a traditional red sari with gold thread. “Please behave.” Mrs. Everdeen quietly gave her husband a look. Her golden bangles clinked as she placed her hand dramatically on her hip. Peeta was glad Katniss had gone over the different fashions. He studied each one because he would do anything for Katniss. 

Peeta watched as her father’s hard analytical eyes softened the moment he beheld Katniss’ mother. Peeta could see how Katniss’ parents were a unit of one. They were in love and either one would fight the shadows and all of the evil in the world for their other half.  “Anjali.”

“I am Katniss’ mother, this is her father,” her pale eyes sparkled. “Please come in, we were waiting for your arrival. Come in,” she ushered him.

The home was two stories, to the left a halfway with rooms, to the right a living room, dining area, and a den to the far back. The house was decorated with warm rich colors, but everything was tied around the family, as pictures dotted the walls. There were lights everywhere hanging from the walls, the clay diya’s sat on the mantel.  Peeta stood in front of a picture of Katniss on her father’s shoulders, her twin braids flowing, her eyes crinkled in pure happiness. 

“Ohhhh you’re cute,” a younger, but deeper voice than Katniss’ said with impish mischief. 

Primrose took after Katniss’ mother, with the flaxen hair and the pale blue eyes.  Katniss explained that her mother was of British descent, while her father’s family, although sporting a European name, was from India. His great-grandparents came to Trinidad, fell in love with the island and stayed. 

Her mother walked away from her very wealthy family back in Trinidad to marry Katniss’ father. It was a little like they were the original Romeo and Julliet. 

His parents got together because his dad knocked up his mom.

“Primrose!” Mrs. Everdeen admonished. 

“What,” Prim said. Her pale blue eyes were inquisitive as she walked around him. The way Katniss talked about her sister, Peeta had expected a little kid, but Prim was as tall as he was. Her loose  pajama-like trousers that narrowed at her ankles, called shalwar, swooshed around as she made her round. Her red kameez, a flowing tunic with intricate gold patterns reminded Peeta of the pattern Mrs. Everdeen wore on her sari.

Prim was everything Katniss was not. She was a bold bright bubbly girl, who at this moment was making sure he was the real deal and not some mindless jerk. He stood, letting her because it was important that her family liked him. He wanted to be accepted. He felt his face flame up under the scrutiny. 

“I understand why my boring sister is constantly sighing.”

Peeta grinned, then he said, “Oh these are for you.” He gave them the presents. The flowers, the chocolate, and the sweetened chickpea Laddoos he made by hand for them.

“Oh these are fragrant, where did you purchase them?”

“He made them.” The soft voice that came behind him made his heart rate triple.

Peeta turned around and there stood Katniss wearing an emerald green lenghas. She had explained what it looked like, but at this moment, his brain that was always filled with words was momentarily empty, vanquished by her beauty. He swallowed, mouth slightly ajar. His eyes darted from the perfection of her face with those silvery eyes that captivated him, and the peek of dark hair that was hidden by the sari. 

Katniss held a shiny brass plate, she called a Tarrier, but in Hindi it was known as a Thali, containing coconut, almonds, and other sweets. Katniss told him the plate belonged to her great-grandmother Veronica. When her mother married her father, her great-grandmother gave it to her insisting it should go to her first born. He swore for a second he could see a miniature Katniss with his eyes staring up at him and holding the Tarrier. 

“He made them?” Primrose asked, Peeta could hear the intense curiosity in her sister’s voice. 

“His family are bakers, and Peeta is an amazing cook.”

“Really,” her father said, and his voice, the way he said that one word snapped Peeta out of his hazy fog. 

“Ah,” he nervously said. “I made her cheese buns,” Peeta felt the heat rising from his neck and caused those red splotches that his brothers made fun of. 

“Cheese buns,” her father repeated. 

“When you were in the hospital, daddy,” her eyes did not hide the pain of recalling those days. “Peeta noticed I wasn’t eating and cajoled me into eating cheese buns,” Katniss words were so soft. “He was the friend I leaned on for support when…” her voice trailed.

Peeta watched her father’s face take a look of adoring tenderness at his eldest, and when his eyes turned to Peeta they weren’t as frosty as they had been. 

“He even took me to temple to pray,” Katniss whispered.

“In Selden?” 

“Yes, daddy,” Katniss quietly said.

“Rahul,” Katniss’ mother chided. She cupped his cheeks, “Such a nice young man. Did you make the chocolate as well?” 

Peeta nodded, his eyes went back to her father. He couldn’t mess this up. 

Her mother smiled serenely, then her eyes lit with happiness as if she made a startling connection. “Oh! Pundit Sharma was right; they were destined in the stars.”

“Star crossed lovers just like you and mom,” Prim said. 

Her father cut his eyes away. 

“Oh my, these chocolates….” Prim moaned. 

“Primrose!” Her mother admonished. 

“What, he said they were for us,” Prim shrugged, plopping a chocolate in her mouth. “I’d say he’s golden. So what does a cheese bun taste like?” 

“Primrose, really, must you think only of your stomach?” Katniss shook her head. 

“Girls,” their father said in a stern tone of voice. “It’s near sunset. Upstairs with the lot of you. I swear corralling a dozen baby ducks would be easier.” 

The women headed upstairs. Peeta wasn’t sure, but her father swept a hand for him to follow him upstairs.

Peeta wasn’t sure what he was expecting, hopefully like something out of Khabi Kushi Khabi Gham. They had a small altar where he watched all of the women present the offerings and began to bow their heads. He stood behind quietly observing, but when Katniss began to pray it was like a song and her words that he didn’t understand wrapped around his heart and his lashes fluttered closed and a single tear fell down his face. Song after song her voice combined with that of her father, her mother and sister caused him to realize just how much he wanted to be part of this family, to be loved and accepted. 

He too prayed for a family to want him, to be needed. 

Peeta was so wrapped up in the moment when it was over he opened his eyes to find her mother standing before him with trembling lips, and watery blue eyes.

“Bend down son,” her father said with warmth in his voice. “She’s going to honor you by putting the sindoor on your forehead.” He pointed to his forehead, though his eyes had completely lost the frost. They were filled with admiration and the same warmth he had in his voice. Her father looked at Katniss and nodded as if giving her his blessings. 

Unsure if what he had just seen was real, his eyes went to Katniss,  but Prim said, “Go ahead Peeta, my father has just fallen for you too.” Her voice squeaked with that enthusiasm only a teenager could have. She wiped the tears from her face as well. 

Peeta bent down slightly. Mrs. Everdeen’s hand slipped to the Tarrier and with her ring finger she pressed it into the red dust Katniss’ father called sindoor.

The press of her finger was light. “When my daughter marries you. You will sprinkle this sindor over the part in her hair to symbolize her marriage to you.”

Peeta’s eyes flew to her father who nodded. “Welcome to the family son.” He clasped his back and said. “Now let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

Peeta couldn’t help but grin. He gazed at Katniss who came to him, her smile shy. He was going to follow them, but katniss put her hand on his, then stepped up and placed a small peck on his cheek. Then winked sassily. “I told you they would love you.” 

And like that, his prayers were answered; he now had a family. 

Years later, when he stood in the same position watching his little girl singing the puja, holding the brass tarrier, alongside Katniss. Just as in that memory from years ago he listened to Katniss voice blend with their daughter. Their voices blended in with his father-in-law Rahul, Primrose and her soon to be fiancé. Peeta was grateful that his prayers were answered, the darkness was swept away and light filled his soul.  And he was granted the family he always wanted.

[iloveyou3thousand]

Ooh - maybe like Peter doesn’t know Tony is a werewolf at first, but the Avengers do and keep Peter away on the nights of the full moon. Peter, maybe he’s recovering in the med bay, happens to be at the compound on the full moon and hears Tony howling. The others panic because when they check on Tony the chains are broken and they find Peter missing from the med bay. When they find Peter, he’s giving Tony scritches and Tony is acting like a big old puppy.

Now that’s what I’m talking about 👀👀

—————————————————————————————

Peter never slept very well in the med bay. He much preferred sleeping at home for obvious reasons, or even up in some guest room somewhere in the compound. But Mr. Stark had insisted he stay here, and while Peter could be very stubborn at times, this time he’d listened.

His injuries weren’t that bad, they’d heal in a matter of days, but Mr. Stark had said that it would be for his own peace of mind. How could Peter deny him that? So there he was, lying in a hospital bed that was significantly more comfortable than the ones in any other regular civilian hospital were, and yet he couldn’t sleep.

It probably had everything to do with the hospital bed and nothing to do with the fact that there was a full moon, which Peter could see from where he was lying, although sometimes he wondered if it did affect him a little. After all, the spiderbite had changed a lot about him. He wondered how spiders reacted to the full moon. Many animals did, after all.

At least the moon kept him company. Mr. Stark had stuck with him for a while, which had been really nice, but he was busy, too. Peter had asked him to stay but he’d said there was a lot of work to be done, and Peter knew that there was, there always was, and so he’d let him go even though the man seemed like all he wanted to do was stick around. What else could he have done?

So now all Peter could really entertain himself with was staring at the moon just beyond his window. It was fascinating how large it was, and how bright, how it bathed his entire room in this cool, bluish light.

He could see why werewolves in books and stories and movies were always obsessed with the moon.

Ugh, he should have asked for a book.

They hadn’t even left him his phone.

Peter yawned leisurely and stretched for as far as his body would allow it, letting his mind wander. It was quiet in the med bay and it had been a while since someone had checked on him so they would probably do so pretty soon. Peter hoped he’d be asleep by then, but he doubted he would be.

There was something eerie about the silence. You’d expect a hospital wing to brim with some kind of life, even at this hour. Maybe Peter had misinterpreted.

And maybe Peter was overthinking the whole full moon thing. Yeah, he was just overthinking it. Overthinking everything. He just needed to relax.

Peter took a deep breath in, and sighed it out slowly through his nose, eyes closing. He just had to do some breathing exercises. That was all. In, and out. In, and out. He’d fall asleep eventually. It was just like counting sheep, except counting breaths.

On the twenty-fifth breath, when Peter was finally starting to relax and doze off lightly, he jolted awake before his body could succumb.

There was a sound. Low and yet high, spine-chilling as it reached his ears, waking him up in an instant once more. He knew that he had a vivid imagination, but that wasn’t something that he could have imagined – even so close to actually falling asleep. It wasn’t a dream. It was real life.

And he was pretty sure that he just heard a wolf howl somewhere deep in the bowels of the Avengers compound.

.

“What?”

Steve was out of breath, standing in front of the intricate contraption they had created to keep Tony contained, but there was no Tony in sight.

They had all come running from their respective quarters when they had heard the howl, something that always meant there was something seriously wrong. And right now what was seriously wrong was that somehow, Tony had broken free of his restraints, and was undoubtedly wandering the halls of the compound.

Which shouldn’t have been a total disaster.

Except for the fact that Peter was in the med bay. And Natasha had just gotten word from the night nurse that the boy was missing from his bed.

“You’re kidding me,” Steve panted, burying his face in his hands for a moment. He took a deep breath and straightened up again, “We have to find them. Both of them. Let’s split up so we can cover more ground. Bruce, Rhodey, Wanda, you comb out the med bay. Clint, Nat and I will sweep the compound. Stay in touch, and stay together. You know what he’s like during full moon.”

And just like that, it was like they had been assigned a mission. They went to their respective starting points and started sweeping the building, checking every room, listening in to every sound. Steve’s team searched Tony’s penthouse first, because it would have made sense for him to be there. Then they started making their way down one floor at a time, leaving the lights off so as not to potentially spook the wolf.

They moved silently through room after room, only speaking to inform each other that yet another space was empty. No sign of Tony yet.

But when they stepped into the communal kitchen, they could hear the fleshy sound of chewing before they saw it.

From their vantage point, the three could see Tony’s hind legs on the floor, the rest of him hidden behind the kitchen island, his tail up and cautious. Next to it were a pair of bare legs. Peter’s legs, lying still as the chewing continued loudly, sloppily, making Steve raise the taser they had all equipped themselves with.

Steve realized this was the worst case scenario.

They always made sure to chain Tony up properly, make sure he was secure, and then they double checked that everyone else was safe as well. They knew that when Tony shifted he was overcome with an insatiable hunger that so far had seemed unquenchable.

And now Peter was lying there, on the ground, the tangy smell of blood getting worse the closer they got to the scene of the crime.

Clint and Natasha seemed to have caught on, too. From the corner of his eye Steve could see that Nat had her mouth covered with her hand, eyes wide as they slowly moved around the kitchen island to get close enough to tase Tony. Steve knew that she liked the kid more than she usually admitted.

Hell, so did Steve.

They rounded the object between them and the scene and Peter was lying on his side, something bloody and chewy in Tony’s maw, and Steve knew he had no choice but to tase him, hurt him, hopefully knock him out with the high voltage so that they could get him back and chain him up again and take care of Peter who might still be breathing if they were lucky—

When Peter lifted his head and propped it up against his hand.

“Hey guys! Look what I found wandering the halls! Did you guys know someone here kept a puppy?”

The group seemed to heave a collective sigh when Peter, who was clearly alive, beamed up at them.

“FRIDAY, lights on please,” Steve murmured, and the second they were bathed in light, Tony’s head lifted from where he’d been chewing a bloody steak, looking up as if Steve had disturbed him, pulling up his lip to snarl at the blond.

“No no, lights out please, thank you,” Peter said quickly, and reached out to pet his hand over the wolf’s large head in between his ears.

The team didn’t know what they were seeing. Couldn’t believe it. Tony immediately went docile, licking his chops, nuzzling Peter’s hand for a second, and then going back to eat his dinner. Clint cursed.

“He doesn’t much like the light. I don’t know why either. But he was very hungry so I gave him a steak. I hope nobody was gonna eat that. Um.” Peter gave a sheepish smile and a shrug.

One of their communication devices crackled quietly and Steve reached for it. Rhodey’s voice came over the receiver.

“You guys find Peter and Tony yet?”

Steve slowly lifted it to speak into it.

“We just did. Found both of them in the kitchen. And I think we’ve found a solution to the chain problem.”

The radio was silent for a moment before it crackled to life again.

“What do you mean? What’s the situation? Is the kid still alive?”

“He is. You should come see for yourself,” Steve said, and reattached the device to his belt.

Peter looked confused. He’d heard the conversation, of course, but didn’t understand. He didn’t understand why the team was out with walkies in the middle of the night apparently looking for Peter and Tony, and he didn’t understand why Steve said they’d found the both of them in the kitchen because as far as Peter was concerned there was no Tony in sight, and he also didn’t understand why they were looking at Peter like that. Should he not have given the dog the steak?

Steve caught Peter’s befuddled look and knew what it meant.

“That’s not a dog, Peter,” he explained slowly while Peter continued to put his hand through the wolf’s fur, even giving him a fat kiss on the head, which the wolf seemed to accept all too easily. Peter only looked more puzzled.

“Peter,” Natasha interjected gently, “That’s Tony.”

Suddenly it hit Peter like a truck. Full moon, howling, big dog walking around the med bay.

Werewolves.

And this absolutely stunning, big dog who had come into his hospital room snarling at the sight of a human until he caught a whiff of something and it immediately calmed him down to the point he was came trotting over to Peter’s bedside to lay his big head in the boy’s lap and lick at his hands and whine until Peter would pet him…

“Oh my god,” Peter breathed to the wolf, who was looking up at him with a kind of intelligence in his eyes that Peter hadn’t noticed before.

“You’re Mr. Stark.”

[terramythos]

TerraMythos 2021 Reading Challenge - Book 9 of 26

Title: The Priory of the Orange Tree (2019) 

Author: Samantha Shannon

Genre/Tags: Fantasy, Epic Fantasy, Third-Person, Female Protagonists, LGBT Protagonists

Rating: 10/10

Date Began: 3/12/2021

Date Finished: 4/12/2021

1000 years ago, the world burned. Draconic creatures terrorized the land, led by a horrific evil known as the Nameless One. But then something happened that sent the monsters into a seemingly endless sleep, and the world has rebuilt in the centuries since.

But the Draconic evil begins to stir in its slumber, and the divided nations of the world have little chance to stop it. Eadaz is a mage from the Priory of the Orange Tree, sent to spy on the northern queendom of Inys. Legend has it that as long as the royal line continues, the world will be free from the Nameless One. While it's a long shot, Ead guards the young Queen Sabran closely to preserve the peace. However, as she and the queen grow closer to each other, Ead has to decide where her loyalties lie. Meanwhile, her close friend Loth is secretly sent into exile by the royal spymaster due to his controversial friendship with the queen. Supposedly sent as an ambassador to the newly Draconic kingdom of Yscalin, he soon finds himself out of his depth, entrusted with a deadly secret.

In the isolationist Eastern country of Seiiki, Tané wants nothing more than to become a dragon rider. The dragons of the East are old, wise, and revered as gods-- eternally opposed to the Draconic legions of the West. However, the night before the choosing ceremony that will decide her fate, she breaks isolation and discovers a young man from the West on the shore. Rather than report him to the authorities, she and her friend smuggle him to the island of Orisima, the only place Westerners are permitted. Niclays Roos, an old man exiled to Orisima by Queen Sabran, soon finds himself caught in the conflict. He believes if he finds an elixir for eternal life, he will finally be able to return home. When he's forced to shelter the forbidden Westerner, Niclays' entire way of life is upended-- but he is soon granted the opportunity to escape his exile.  

'My grandmother once said that when a wolf comes to the village, a shepherd looks first to her own flock. The wolf bloods his teeth on other sheep, and the shepherd knows it will one day come for hers, but she clings to the hope that she might be able to keep him out. Until the wolf is at her door.’

Full review, minor spoilers, and content warnings under the cut.

Content warnings for the book:  Some sexual content. Blood, gore, violence, traumatic injury, suicide, and death. Torture and execution. Miscarriage. Body horror (kinda). Drug use.

Clocking in at just over 800 pages, The Priory of the Orange Tree is a long, detailed story. I tend to label things Epic Fantasy when they have world-changing stakes. While Priory certainly fits that criteria, it's the first fantasy book I've read in a while that really does feel like an epic. It stars a huge cast of interesting characters from many walks of life, all of whom find themselves caught up in a world-spanning conflict. It captures the sense of a standalone, grand adventure that shorter fantasy novels of today don't typically reach.

With a book this long, it would be easy to ramble on forever about everything I liked. However, I'm going to try to keep it short and simple.

One of my favorite things about this story was the sheer depth of the world. Lots of people compare this to The Lord of the Rings not for its tropes, but the attention to detail regarding the countries, politics, history, religion, and so on. I'm inclined to agree with this assessment. The world felt alive and multi-dimensional. I could pinpoint many parallels to our own mythologies and histories-- particularly drawn from Europe, Asia, and the Middle East. There's also a clear love of language in the story via its beautiful prose. I like to think I know English pretty well, but this book taught me quite a few new words! Might fuck around and call sunsets "rutilant" from now on.

I thought all four leads were interesting. Ead is kinda the "main" lead of the novel, although Tané overtakes her in the latter half. Everyone had different personalities and backstories, and I genuinely enjoyed all of their arcs. Niclays in particular would be an easy character to hate; of the four, he's the most selfish and does some real questionable shit. At the same time, it's hard not to sympathize with him. He's a sad, unjustly exiled elder who's lost the one man he cared about, and finds himself in a desperate situation. These types of characters are interesting to me; a glimpse of what anyone can become given the wrong circumstances and cruel treatment.

With stories like this, one of the most satisfying payoffs is how the different characters and stories come together. It was interesting to see how their paths converged and diverged over time, and ultimately how everything tied together in the end. I also appreciated the character relationships. I liked that Loth's close friendships with both Sabran and Ead were intimate yet platonic without some awkward love triangle.

From some story specifics... I'm a sucker for the bodyguard romance trope, and seeing it done with women in a mainstream novel gave me life. I thought the romance between Ead and Sabran was really sweet; I didn't see how it would work early on since Sabran was a little insufferable, but she had hidden depths (oh god, another weakness of mine). I also really liked the idea of traditional European and Asian dragons being diametrically opposed, and that being a core theme of the story. Intelligent and/or talking animals are another thing I adore in spec fic, so I dug characters like Aralaq. Kalyba's ongoing relevance and gradual exposition was also neat; I love minor world details that turn out super relevant later.

Also, the entire final battle/ending sequence was SO good. Really creative and action packed. Action scenes often blend together for me (and can be logistical nightmares) but Priory's climactic ending was just awesome. I don't want to spoil specifics, but it reminded me of many beloved epic battles in modern fantasy. Avatar the Last Airbender, How To Train Your Dragon, and Pirates of the Caribbean all came to mind. 

My main criticism with Priory is that often, the plot relied on convenient coincidence to get the characters out of a jam or otherwise advance the story. I can excuse a minor contrivance or two for the sake of a smooth story, and the scope of this book is big enough that it'd be hard to avoid. But some are nuts. For example, Loth gets rescued from certain death by a giant ichneumon while traveling through the mountains. We later learn the ichneumon is Aralaq, a friend of Ead's, and he just happened to be in the middle of nowhere, far from his home, and stumbled upon Loth. Loth, who ALSO happens to be Ead's best friend... which Aralaq presumably doesn't know?

Another is the MAJOR SPOILER regarding the rising jewel's location. I didn't hate the twist itself, but there was so little build up to it. I wish there were more early hints to justify it, because with setup it would be a pretty cool development. These things didn't ruin my enjoyment of the story, but the borderline deus ex machina (machinae? machinas?) did take me out of it a bit. It’s possible I missed stuff so I’ll give some benefit of the doubt. 

Overall, though, The Priory of the Orange Tree is a fun, world-spanning adventure. Like any long book, it's an investment to get into. However, if you're looking for a standalone, feminist fantasy epic, this is certainly a good place to start.  

[tomtenadia]

Island Dreams - Chapter 16

Chapter 16 is here. Ten more and the epilogue and the story is over. I have some lovely moments already written down as drafts and i swear there is a lot of fluff coming.

The wee holiday with Lys and Aedion is almost over. Aelin and Rowan share a powerful moment at Callanish. Then something happens and fate throws them together a bit more. And they finally go on a date.

I hope you will all love it.

Thank you to all who have liked or reblogged my fic. You are amazing.

------

The next morning a sense of sadness descended on the quartet. They had a quiet breakfast, all moping because their small break was over. They checked-out of the cottage a bit later and they made their way to the ferry terminal to go back on Harris and Lewis. Once they were back on the island, Rowan, who was back at the wheel decided to drive them up via the Golden road. He hoped that the beautiful road trip would raise the spirits up a little bit. Even Aelin was a bit down. At one of the junctions Rowan slowed down a lot after a big sign alerting them of possible farm traffic. He hoped they would encounter some. He knew it would definitely cheer up the two women.

His lips curled into a smile when in the distance he spotted a big flock of sheep heading their way. He pulled over the car and relaxed. Lysandra squealed and jumped off the car as it got surrounded by the animals and Aelin joined her a moment later. The smiles where back on their faces and Rowan realised he would do anything to see Aelin with such a bright smile. “It’s like the picture you sent me.” The dark-haired woman exclaimed all excited and took out her phone to take as many pictures as possible. The two men had exited the car as well and were now leaning against the hood and enjoying the view of their happy women. “I guess for you it’s not that unusual.” Commented Aedion admiring Lysandra. “No, they can be daily occurrences for locals.” Then he stared at Aelin “but look at how happy they are.” And his voice had an edge of softness. Aedion noticed Lysandra trying to pet a sheep and laughed. He took a few photo of her. “Thank you for all this.” The man turned to Rowan “Lysandra has suffered quite a lot after Aelin left. I haven’t seen her this happy in a while.” Rowan smiled back at the man and from how he talked about Lysandra he realised he loved the woman deeply. “And I know Aelin is not coming back and on some level Lysandra knows as well but still has to process it.” “Thank you for looking after her.” replied Rowan, his gaze back on Aelin “When she arrived she was a mess. We both were to be honest. But now she is happy.” “I don’t know what magic you pulled man, but I have known Aelin for a very long time and I have never seen her this happy. Not even when she was married to officer asshole.” “She told me about him.” “I swear I had a daily need to punch the bastard. You can’t marry someone and then decide you can only love some parts of her. When you commit to someone you cannot pick and choose which part you love.” Rowan growled. “And the divorce. The bastard had been cheating on her for months. Had lied to her and told her he was working night shifts when he was screwing the detective bitch. He lied, he hurt her in a way that was unspeakable. He crushed her. I offered willingly to help her move to Lys’ place. I wanted her as far way as possible from that son of a bitch.” Rowan was shocked by the ferocity with which Aedion defended Aelin. “And before you ask, no, nothing ever happened between us. She is a very dear friend of mine. I love her like a sister.” Rowan place a hand on Aedion’s shoulder “Thank you.” Was all he said. Once the road was clear again Aelin and Lysandra went back to their men “what were you talking about?” Aelin had noticed the two deep in conversation and she was glad to see that they had become good friends in that few days away. “Aedion was telling me of his time in the RAF.” Aelin smiled and Rowan was happy she believed the little lie.

They continued the drive and they stopped at the small Harris Tweed place Aelin had discovered and Lysandra spent almost a fortune and even bought a present to Aedion as a thank you. Eventually they crossed back into Lewis and Rowan took the road to Callanish and Aelin was giddy. That was her favourite place. Once they got there they noticed there were only a few tourists. Aelin took Lysandra’s hand and guided her friend to the stones while telling her all the info she had absorbed from the book Elias had given her. They guys reached them a moment later and joined them near the stones at the circle. Rowan grabbed Aelin to him and he moved to the centre of the circle. He had imagined the moment he would be at Callanish with her a million times. He knew she loved the place and for him, being pagan and all, the site had a special meaning. Aedion grabbed Lysandra and the two decided to do some exploring on their own and Rowan for a moment was glad as he wanted to have a moment alone with Aelin. He pulled her to his chest and his arms closed around her. “ 's ann leatsa a tha mo chridhe gu brath” he whispered to her ear and Aelin wished he would speak Gaelic more often even if she could not understand him. His voice changed and it made her heart race furiously. He placed her hand on his heart “gu brath.” He said again and kissed her “On this sacred soil I claim you, mo chridhe. 's ann leatsa a tha mo chridhe gu brath.” And she squeezed him as tight as she could. She had no idea what he was saying but she could feel his love. She looked up at him “I claim you Rowan Whitethorn, on this sacred soil I declare my love to you.” She said and felt horrible. She wanted to say something poetic. Something that sounded just as beautiful as what he said, whatever it was, but that’s all she could manage. But he seemed happy, his hands went to her head and caressed it with gentleness and she felt a shift in their relationship. As if they had just taken a step much bigger than having sex a just a level below getting married. His heart raced just as much as hers.

Rowan could not let go of her. He had just told her something powerful in a magical place like Callanish. He felt as if he had just proposed to her. But she was his and he was hers. And he meant what he had said to her. His heart was hers forever. In the past few days he had realised that there was no turning back. This woman had entered his life and now he could not think to exist without her. And he thought about the Runrig song he sang to her on the beach There is no way without you. Lysandra and Aedion came back and for a moment he was annoyed. He wanted a little bit more time with her and Aelin seemed to be of the same opinion when she did not move from her position. “This place is amazing. And I can’t believe is over 5000 years old.” Rowan nodded and then Lysandra announced they were going to the visitor centre because she had to play tourist and buy a fridge magnet. Rowan kissed Aelin’s head who had not moved from her position even when her friends were here. “Are you okay?” She lifted her head and he noticed she was crying. Shit what did he do? “Hey…” with his finger he removed her tears “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” she sobbed “You said something super amazing to me and I replied in a very lousy way and all I wanted to tell is that I love you. I want you in my life. For ever. For always. Because there is no way without you and I can’t think about another day without you at my side.” He kissed her. He lifted her until her feet left the ground and kissed in a way that would tell her that he felt the same way. “Better?” He asked when he put her down and she gave him a grin. “Come, let’s go and buy you your tacky fridge magnet.” And hand in hand they walked to the visitor centre.

Later in the afternoon they reached Butt of Lewis and their last stop in their adventure. At that beautiful place Aelin took Lysandra aside. It was time. After what happened at Callanish with Rowan she knew her decision was now final and there was no turning back for her. Which meant she had to tell her friend. They sat down at the edge of the cliff and Aelin took Lysandra’s hand. “Lys…” Aelin was now staring at the sea that over there was always angry, no matter how calm the wind. “I am not coming back to London. A part from you and Aedion, there is nothing left there for me. I can’t step back in my old life. Not after here. And…” she took a deep breath “I can’t leave Rowan. I don’t want to.” Lysandra smiled at her friend “I knew from the first moment I saw you again.” She replied squeezing the hand back “you were so happy that I knew you’d never come back. Why would you? And when I saw you with Rowan and I had the final proof.” She kissed Aelin’s cheek “I want to be invited at the wedding.” Aelin laughed “you will be the first one to know.” The two women hugged fiercely “I love you.” They said to each other. Half an hour later they were all back in Stornoway and Rowan had dropped them off at Aelin’s place. When it was time to part Aelin felt a sudden pang of sadness. She didn’t want to stay away from Rowan. “Come and say hi if you are in town,” he said to her, hugging her “I’ll miss you.” She was going to spend time with her friends, but Rowan had to go back to the shop and she was going to miss him. “Leave the other women alone, I am your only bookworm.” She felt him grin against her lips. “I’ll behave.”

Two weeks had passed and Lysandra and Aedion had to go back home and Rowan knew Aelin was going to be in a foul mood so he had prepared a task for her to keep her mind off things. He needed a revamp of the sci-fi section and he left the task to her knowing she would love it. She told him she was coming in at nine when he opened but it was past ten and there was no sign of her and he was getting worried. He also had no text or missed calls from her. It was almost eleven when she walked into the shop and he knew something bad had happened. She walked to him and sat down on her chair. “What happened?” She did not reply and instead she gave him a letter which he took and read it. “Are you kidding me?” “Nope.” She replied totally dejected “my landlord is selling the house and I have a month to move out.” She sighed “I spent the morning looking for other places but there is nothing available, unless I want to buy, which at the moment I can’t do. So, yeah I am in deep trouble. If I don’t find anything I am on the street.” “No you are not.” He said to her and turned his gaze to her “I have a spare bedroom. You can stay at my place. My house is big enough for two and for all your books.” Aelin jumped off the chair and into his arms “You are joking.” “Why would I? You need a place where to stay and I have it. Problem solved.” He was being very pragmatic but his heart was racing at the idea. “You will have me around all the time, Rowan. All the time.” “And?” Aelin huffed and lifted her hands “Just checking that you are sure of what you are getting into.” She kissed him “But I am so very grateful.” “Is my bedroom big?” She asked feeling excitement rise. “It’s normal.” He replied continuing working on what he was doing. “Will I have space for my books?” “I can squeeze them in.” “Ro?” “What?” Exasperation in his voice. “Are you ignoring me or the computer is sexier than me?” With a very slow motion he finally turned “Fireheart, some people have work to do.” “Fine. You are grumpy.” And she pinched his buttocks. Rowan turned quickly and glared at her for a second then exhaled deeply “We can move things on Sunday. Have everything prepared and boxed and on Sunday I will help you. We have two cars so it should be quite quick.” His tone flat. She threw her arms around his neck “You are wonderful.”

Ten minutes later she was back to work all happy again and Rowan had a smile on his face. They were going to live together and he could not contain his happiness at having her around all day. “By the way… the sci-fi section needs a revamp. Fancy playing a bit?” “Hell yeah, Aelin to the rescue.” By the end of the day she had redone not just the sci-fi display but also two more bookcases, explaining that they needed a bit of a spruce up as well and Rowan had let her. Her display were working and his sales had definitely increased. According to Aelin his Facebook page was being successful especially since he had started posting reviews and recommendation. “And again, ladies and gentleman, bow to the Queen.” In the distance she heard Rowan scoff. “You have any problems?” She walked to him wiggling her finger at him “No m’lady I could never tell my Queen she has a very high esteem of herself.” She grinned and walked to him and placed a kiss on his wicked mouth. “Ro?” “Yes, menace.” She snuggled and took a deep breath “There is there is a sci fi festival at An Lanntair this week and tonight they are showing Star Wars episode IV. Fancy coming with me?” Rowan was silent for a moment. “I am coming with you. But just because we are watching the original trilogy. I refuse to watch the new stuff.” Aelin laughed “Oh I’d never do that. For me only the three original episodes exist.” “You are my girl.” “Will… you know. Be okay? With Lyria?” Rowan gave her a squeeze “I will be fine.” She looked up at him with a very mischievous grin “It’s warm, I can wear a very slutty dress and show her who is the stick.” Rowan laughed “Just not too slutty. People talk around here.” “And say what? Rowan Whitethorn is dating the hot chick from London? Like I care.” He ran a hand through her hair “This chick from London is hot, though.” He grinned. “We can also have dinner together. Have a date you know.” He then added. A huge smile appeared on her face “I’d love that very much.” “So if we are going on a date, does it mean we are officially dating? Are we putting a label on it?” She leaned on the counter with her elbows and stared at him. “We can put one label if you want. We can say that we are dating.” He offered her while filing away some of the invoices he had just finished to reconcile. “But we are not boyfriends and girlfriend.” She looked at him. “I prefer a Fireheart and her Buzzard.” Aelin grabbed his face and kissed him deeply “I prefer it so much more” and brushed his hair “And if someone asks us what is means we will tell them to mind their own business and just let us enjoy our relationship how we want.” He had his eyes closed and his his face in an expression of pure bliss while Aelin kept caressing his head. Aelin even thought she heard him purr in delight. She could not keep her hands off him. She always needed to have some kind of contact with him and she was happy that he allowed it. The door opened and they broke apart quickly. She went to the customer and he continued his job at the computer while keeping an eye on he. He could not believe himself. He had just offered her to go and live with him. Last time he had done that it did not end well and a part of him was worried. They relationship was going well and all of a sudden her was terrified he had just done a stupid thing. But then he looked at her again and the rational part of his brain told him that she was not Lyria and Aelin was seriously in love with him. He sighed and hoped he was right. She came back walking with her usual swagger and with her hips pushed him away “I need to order a book.” And she started playing at the computer and Rowan was impressed how quickly she had learned all the other aspects of the job. She had been an amazing help and knowing he could keep the shop open when he was going to the school was an incredible relief. “Who gave you permission to do that?” He joked. “You did. Now let me finish before I make a mistake and then you shout at me.” He pulled her braid and left her alone with her task.

Later that evening they had finally gone home and now Aelin was trying to decide what to wear for her date with Rowan. She had texted Lysandra all excited and her friend’s reply was something that will make him regret that you are in a public place and not in his bed. The night was warm so she decided to wear her blue dress. It was very ‘50s in style with a nice flowing skirt, and sleeveless. It was one of her favourite. And it was also not slutty at all. She put some light make up on and decided to leave her hair down. it was always in a braid during the day, but she wanted to fully shock Rowan. She grabbed a jacket and left the house. They were meeting outside the restaurant. Her stomach was in knots by the excitement. She hadn’t felt like this on her first date with Chaol. When she arrived at the restaurant she spotted Rowan in the distance. It was almost impossible not to notice him. And she stopped. Damn, the man really was sex on two legs. He was wearing a pair of jeans, a white shirt under a green jumper that somehow matched his eyes. It was simple but on him it was a dream. She swallowed and walked to him.

Rowan had spotted her in an instant. She was wearing a beautiful blue dress that hugged her curves beautifully. But what caused him almost an heart attack was her hair. It was down. He had always seen her in a braid and never realised how long it was. It hung on her shoulder and it look like gold. She was the most stunning woman he had ever seen and he was positive he now had a stupid grin painted on his face. “Hey,” he said, walking to her. An arm went around her waist and he pulled her to him for a quick kiss. “You taste of strawberry.” “Lipgloss,”Aelin said and Rowan kissed her again. “Now you removed it all.” “I have no regrets and I plan on doing it again.” He smiled at her and then run his fingers through her hair. “I love this. Very, very, much.” “Shall we go in?” At the restaurant they had a great meal and Rowan told himself he should have asked her out before. But her situation was a mess before, their status confused. Now that things were finally moving in the correct direction he was planning on remedy on all those omissions and treat her out to a meal more often. Once they were done they walked to An Lanntair hand in hand and chatting away happily. At the community centre they stopped outside and Aelin noticed his indecision. “Ro, we don’t have to do it. We can go for a walk and then get ice cream. We really don’t.” He kissed her “I want to. It’s time I face it. I love this place and I am tired of avoiding because of her.” With his hand in hers they walked in and once inside they joined the queue for the tickets. Aelin had noticed a few women staring at Rowan and she had promptly glared at them marking the territory. His arm went tight around her waist and she was petty enough to turn to those women and smirk. “Two tickets please for Star Wars,”Aelin heard Rowan said and she noticed the woman at the counter. Lyria’s gaze was fixed on her. “Perhaps you want to keep an eye on the computer.” Aelin added and her arm went around Rowan’s waist in a possessive manner. And she celebrated a little victory when she noticed annoyance in the woman’s eyes. “I didn’t know you liked this kind of movie.” Lyria’s stare was now on Rowan “Do you want your usual seat at the back of the cinema? Although I doubt your friend here has the guts to have sex in a cinema.” “I have a thing called decency.” Aelin spat back now fully sick and tired by this woman. “Cash or card?” “Card,” growled Rowan. “Here are your tickets.” Then her gaze was on Aelin again “Bye stick.” Rowan turned furiously “Don’t you dare insult her again. Ever.” He grabbed Aelin’s hand and they walked to the screen. “I never had sex in a cinema.” He growled “I always get a sit at the back because I am tall and I don’t want to be in people’s way.” She stopped and turned him to her “I know. I guessed. I could not picture you like the kind of guy to have sex in a public place. Grabbing my leg and some light touching… yes. Full on sex no.” He kissed her and they went to their seats. They were finally comfy when Aelin realised she forgot the pop corn and her drink so she left him alone to go and get her provisions. She went to the kiosk and got her food and got back to Rowan. “Was dinner not enough?” Aelin shook her head “dinner was perfect but I can’t watch a movie in a cinema without pop corn.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. The movie started and Aelin’s head ended up leaning on his shoulder. Then she grabbed Rowan’s hand and placed on her thigh. He was still to start with then his thumb slowly started tracing circles on the inner part. She smiled and parted her legs gently. Their row was empty and the one in front was the same. Everyone was seated toward the front. He shifted more to her side and his hand now was completely under her dress. She concentrated on the movie while his hand was doing wonders on her. Again, he never touched skin, but still he managed to make her tremble. At the same time her hand sneaked at his side and between his legs. It was time to return the favour. “I’ll stop before the end of the movie.” She whispered in his ear when he tried to stop her hand. She palmed him quite hard and Rowan pretended to cough to hide the moan that surely was about to escape his mouth. As she promised she had stopped before the end of the movie to give him time to compose himself and he had been a gentleman. He had mostly caressed her thighs and gave a few very light brushes between her legs. He was not the kind of person to do such things in public. And she loved him even more. She had restrained herself as well and just brushed her hand up and down enough to tease him a bit. It had been fun. When they left the cinema he had a big grin on his face “Still up for that ice cream?” She nodded eagerly. They walked to the ice cream parlour and Aelin’s mouth watered at the lovely selection of flavours. “This is the best place where to get ice cream.” “Please tell me you eat ice cream.” she looked up at him. He smiled “Only fruity flavours.” “This one is on me.” She noticed the protest in his eyes but she stopped him “No, you paid for dinner and did not allow me to give you money for the movie. This is on me.” “Fine, Fireheart.” And he placed his hands on her shoulder. They got their ice cream and they started walking along the marina and then off to Lews castle grounds. They found a bench and sat down and ate their ice cream in silence, looking at the boats rolling in the water. “Did you enjoy our first date?” Rowan looked at her. “Very much,” she finished her ice cream and then Rowan laughed. “What?” But he did not reply and kissed her. “You had chocolate moustache.” And his smile was wicked. Aelin began laughing and he stared at her confused. “Nothing.” She replied at his face. “Come on,” with his fingers he began tickling her. “No, it’s embarrassing.” “More than having chocolate moustache like a five years old?” Aelin sighed “Fine, but I warned you.” She took a breath and fought the embarrassment “I… one of my fantasies involves me… hem… covering your body in chocolate and lick you clean.” Her face was buried in her hands and avoided looking at him. He grabbed her hands and pulled them away “Considering is you, I am not surprise you want to lick something sweet off me. Want to dip me in whip cream as well? I can also have a few marshmallow stuck in my mouth.” And they laughed hard. His arm went around her shoulder and he pulled her close to him and she nestled in the crook of his arm, her hand on his chest. “With Chaol there was chemistry but we never… had adventures. It was always only in bed. I couldn’t even convince him in the shower. I think that’s why I have stupid fantasies.” He squeezed her “Lyria was… well, she was the one that once suggested sex in a cinema. She was always suggesting places where it would not have been a good idea. That’s why she calls me boring.” “I don’t think I could either. I am all for trying all sorts of places in my house and all sort of positions but out of the privacy of my house I don’t think I could.” She explained “probably in a wood or a lake if I knew there was no one around for kilometres.” She looked at him “I guess we are both boring.” “Never.” His other arm went around her waist and Aelin draped one leg over his. “Did you wait with her as well?” Rowan sighed “No. I was younger and horny and she was my first girlfriend. I was eager to get some experience. Most of the guys at my age already had plenty. I didn’t. I was too busy between uni and swimming to add girl as well. Although I had a huge fan club at uni.” “That I can imagine.” She laughed. “But no, with her the first few times were a disaster. I knew the basics but I had no idea how to please a woman.” “I would say that you have honed that skill pretty nicely.” Aelin’s hand on his chest tightened. “I… had a few before Chaol. Too many probably. They were not relationships. More one night stands. I always blamed it to the stress due to med school. It was a good way to let out steam.” She confessed and hoped he would not change his mind about her “Lys and I would go to a bar and see who could score the hottest guy. And now with hindsight I regret it.” She felt Rowan kiss her head and took it as a good sign. Eventually Aelin stood and grabbed his hands “Let’s go, I need to stretch my legs.” They walked a bit longer and kept chatting and Rowan in the end walked back to what was going to be her home for only two more days. “Thank you for tonight,” she snuggled to his chest and he wrapped his arms around her “I had a great night.” He looked down to her “I had fun too.” He kissed her and she pulled back. “Oidhche mhath, mo chridhe” she said to him. He pulled in for a kiss “Good night to you as well, Fireheart.”

[iooiu]

Hey, so I've been thinking about this AU and I have a few questions. 1) how does exactly the haddock siblings happen? I mean, did Valka stayed longer? Are they adopted? 2) What's their interaction with Gobber? 3) How does Stoick manage them? 4)When Hiccup goes and ends the war with the dragons what's their reaction? 5) How do the haddock kids interact? Who's the leader and stuff like that 6) How do they interact with the main crew? (Astrid, Fishlegs, Snoutloud, the twins). Have a nice day!!

Hey hey hey! Fire those questions away!

(Tbh this au is super sporadic and half the time I end up changing what I’ve already planned, but hopefully some of these answers will stay the same lo)

Okay so;

1. From my (very limited, very sad, very uneducated) knowledge people would actually have kids a lot earlier in life (during their teenage years actually), and my best guess is that has something to do with the fact that they wouldn’t live nearly as long as we do now, but I know in many cultures and even in the last few generations couples had children very early in life, as it was a common practice (though please don’t take my full word for it, like I said, I’m no expert). 

Because of this, Valka would have had Dagur and Heather earlier, and would’ve been taken away around the same time as canon (when Hiccup was a wee little baby).

2. When they were little Dagur would poke Gobber with sticks and then run away because he’s a jerk, but Heather never really interacted with him much.

2.5? I like to match my au’s with canon events as I’m not a very creative person who can just recreate a whole series lmao. 

So basically when HIccup was around 4 (maybe like idk) Stoick gave Dagur and Heather to Oswald (who I decided would be Stoick’s relative, like a brother or smth) because of some political tensions (that I’ll leave to interpretation because I know shit about Viking politics) with outside tribes. It’s the main reason why Hiccup doesn’t remember a whole lot about his siblings and why Dagur seems to retain the most knowledge over it (and Heather to a certain extent too).

3. Before all of this happened, Stoick obviously had to raise them like the absolute single-father unit he is, but man, was it tough.

Between running a whole tribe, fighting a war with giant fire-breathing reptiles, losing his wife, and having to maintain peace with other tribes, that man had a lot on his plate. He would often give Dagur the responsibility of looking after the other two (he would have totally given the responsibility to Heather, but Dagur’s the oldest (8-10 years older than Hiccup, as reference)).

But he cared deeply for them, and would try to spend what free time he had with them.

That doesn’t mean Dagur wasn’t a little shit-eating menace though, because he totally was. He would set whole houses on fire and claim that he was training when really he just wanted to let the sheep roam free around the village. He would take Hiccup and Heather exploring in the forests (though it was more of carrying Hiccup around and holding Heather’s hand because they were too little lol).

Stoick always tried reprimanding him, but no one can tame the boy so why even try. 

Stoick also taught Heather how to braid her hair, because she had been too young to learn by the time Valka disappeared. 

4. As I said before, this au followed canon for the most part, so their reactions are much the same as in the show (though with a few more aggressive head ruffles and hugs because like, duh, their baby bro changed the world).

5. Oh boy, this is a long one.

Dagur is a demon, like literally. The Berserkers and Berkians are known to have had a strong alliance for decades, and because of this the two chieftains often met with each other for celebrations and trades. When Stoick gave the two to Oswald, the Berserker chief often brought them with him, so Hiccup remained familiar with his siblings.

Dagur tried to teach Hiccup how to swim, but almost drowned him. Heather liked roaming the forests and dragged the two with her. They bonded for years like this (until Oswald gave Heather away to a different tribe because of political tension and threat of war, which is partly the reason why Dagur destroyed them later in the series).

When Heather is given away, Hiccup is around 6-7, and doesn’t see her again until the time frame of Riders of Berk (is that what the show is called?? lol I forgot).

Dagur continued to accompany Oswald to Berk, and Hiccup with Stoick to Berseker Island, and because of the distance between them, Dagur didn’t really know how to be gentle with his brother. In his mind, he already lost his sister, and Hiccup was always so small and so he feared the worst for him as well. He tried to ‘toughen him up’ the best way he knew how, but he was kind of jagged in the head and always ended up giving off the wrong impression. Poor Hiccup became traumatized lol, but took it in stride later in the series (around RTTE).

I could go on forever and ever about how they interact afterwards (in Race to the Edge) but I know it’ll be super annoying for me to go on a tangent about it.

6. Basically the same way they interact with them in canon? Dagur never really liked any of them when he visited Berk, and the three of them didn’t even know them when they were all living with Stoick. Remember that they were all around Hiccup’s age, and that Dagur and Heather would both older (Dagur by 8-10 years and Heather by 2-3).

So yeah, their interactions are exactly the same as in canon RTTE.

Though when Dagur first broke the news to Hiccup about all three of them being siblings (poor baby had been young when they had left, and was fed the impression that they were nothing more than kids from neighbouring tribes, but he had his speculations), he wanted to keep it a secret from the gang. But this boy is shit at lying to people’s faces and when everyone found out it was like an exe.stopped-working moment.

After that they got used to the idea of the three of them being a family, and Heather never failed to complain about her brothers’ stupidity to Astrid and Dagur would constantly tell Snotlout (who was they cousin, but Dagur and Heather only found out after they all reconciled) embarrassing stories about how Hiccup used to cry when either Dagur to Heather left their shared room at night.

Again, I would love to rant about their interactions (and the sheer amount of teasing that Hiccup would receive over his little lovey-dovey crush on Astrid because come on, what kind of older sibling wouldn’t embarrass the hell out of you for something like that?), but it’ll be super long and annoying lol.

Thanks for giving me the chance to spill my guts on this au! I know I kind of went a bit overboard, but my love for these three never ceases to escape me haha.

[nehswritesstuffs]

Clara Oswald and the Last of the Dragon Lords - Part 1

Has anyone done a How to Train Your Dragon AU for Whouffaldi? All I did was literally glance over at my DVD shelf and this popped into my head. I’m sorry.

2787 words; mostly this is just righting the wrong of Peter Capaldi not voicing someone in the HTTYD series (amongst other series that he really could/should have been in except he wasn’t invited for some unknown reason); the crossover mostly encompasses borrowing the setting and a few main points, but you’ll discover what as we go along; I’m beginning to think that almost all of what I’m capable of these says is just AUs but hey I found my niche I LIVE HERE NOW; chapter below contains mentions of blood/wounds, but not in-depth

Clara Oswald and the Last of the Dragon Lords; Not a lot of excitement happens in Clara’s home village of Berk. Her days of teaching are punctuated by dragon attacks, sure, but nothing really exciting happens... not until someone... no, something crashes on her island... [HTTYD!Whouffaldi AU]

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Nothing really happens here, on the island and in the village where I grew up.

Berk is nothing special, really. My parents came here when I was a little girl, before I could clearly remember, searching for a different sort of life. For the most part, people who are born here, die here, and there’s not much else that goes on. We farm sheep, and fish, and there’s some crops that we’re able to cultivate despite the rocky terrain. Traders go through every now and then, buying our Berkish wool and metalworks while being our lifeline to the rest of the world. One can live a good life on Berk, which I guess is why Mum and Dad came here all those years ago.

Did I mention there were dragons? Oh, yeah, because there are.

That was the one thing my parents didn’t anticipate when they moved to Berk: the near-constant threat of dragon attacks. I fail to see how it wasn’t apparent from the start. Most of the buildings on the island have only been built within the past ten years—if that—there are many catapults and dragon-snares everywhere, and, well, you’ve never met the people. Berkers are staunch dragon-haters, and for good reason. They make off with sheep, burn things down, and sometimes people are killed. My mum was one—she slipped and fell off a platform while fighting dragons during a storm. That was back when I was a teen; I’m an adult now, and the memory of that night still hurts.

All in all, it’s still not a terrible place to live. We take care of one another, the community is strong, and no one goes hungry or cold. Everything seems to fit into place…

…that was… until he showed up.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Dawn broke as Clara woke, rising for the day. It was another gorgeous sunrise on Berk, one that she was going to enjoy, and for good reason. The island had gone for an entire month without having to fight off any dragons, which of course had led to her being able to do her work in peace and quiet. Her job was a difficult one to do while under attack and she preferred a quiet day to the alternative. She left the house before her father woke, the man firmly asleep after having taken a late watch.

After getting a breakfast bun from the baker in the Great Hall, Clara headed directly to the schoolhouse, dodging students who were already running about in the yard. The school that Clara worked in—if it could really be called that some days—was honestly one of her favorite places on the island. The building where she and a few others were in charge of the village’s children was a haven. Despite the fact that she never really escaped the looming threat of dragons, it was good to lose herself in historic ballads and tales of old. There were other reminders, such as the storing of their books in stone vaults to protect them and the subjects other teachers were given. Science projects involved building traps and identifying different dragon species, maths involved the costs of rebuilding and how much to charge in order to get top dollar for more supplies, and the physical education department…

“Clara, I hate to bother you, but do you have a minute?”

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw another instructor standing sheepishly in the doorway of her classroom. The day had yet to properly begin, so they were both free. While she had just sat down to begin her day’s prep work, he…

“Danny, what happened to your arm?!” she gaped. He slunk into the room and tried not to wince as she sat him down on a chair and moved his hand and the cloth in it so that she could look at the gaping wound on his forearm. She went for the emergency kit in her desk—it was not good.

“I was showing the early-risers some self-defense techniques and the knife slipped,” he admitted.

“This looks like a lot more than a slip.”

“Yeah, and it took everything to not cuss and freak them out. I had to act like everything was normal and it was just a scratch.” He hissed as she splashed some alcohol on the wound to disinfect it. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

“Don’t make me answer that,” she deadpanned. She had known Danny for a long time—the boy who washed up on their shores some years after her parents moved with her to Berk, the boat he was in having been attacked by dragons. They were both not native to the village, yet found their places within it as they had grown into adulthood. “You should get this looked at… properly.”

“…and face the lectures I’ll get after having promised to be careful? Not a chance.” He tried to not twitch as she sewed him up, only needing a couple stitches. A couple was enough though, and he knew he couldn't patch up his own arm like another human could. “In lieu of medical treatment, I could get murdered instead.”

“Now that sounds a bit like overreacting,” she chuckled. “You just need me to get you out of trouble again.”

“What an accusation.”

“You’re not denying it, now are you? I think that maybe next time, you need to work with a dull knife when showing off to the students.” Clara tied off the string and snipped it before getting the bandage wrap out of the kit. “Think you can at least manage this part?”

“I think so,” Danny replied. He took the bandage and began to wind it around his forearm, hiding the stitches from view. “I was thinking…”

“…go on…”

“Wouldn’t it be nice if we didn’t have to fight dragons all the time?” He let her take the end of the bandage from his hand and secure it in place. “I don’t want to have to teach the kids self-defense anymore… not when it comes to dragons.”

“What do you want to teach them self-defense for?”

“It’d be nice if we could just show them how to flip someone over their shoulder and be done with it,” he said. She stayed silent—it wasn’t a point she could argue, even if she wanted. “These kids can fully operate most of our anti-dragon weaponry by the time they’re ten…”

“You were manning the anti-dragon weaponry by ten.”

“I was, and to be our age and still have over twenty years of that behind you?” He stared off into the middle distance, thinking to himself for a moment. “It’d be nice if we can spare them that.”

Clara hugged Danny from the side, knowing precisely what was eating at him. “It would be wonderful to not have the threat of dragons and just be a normal village, wouldn’t it?” He remained quiet, contemplating, before responding to her.

“I’m thinking about moving.”

His admission hit her hard; she stepped back and gave him a confused look.

“Move? Where?”

“I don't know—somewhere not here,” he said. “I just want a quiet life… don't you?”

“I… I…”

What hit her harder was that she didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Give it some thought; I’m not wholly decided myself,” he said. “Just please keep it a secret for the time being—I don’t want to worry anyone unnecessarily.”

Clara nodded. The sound of students filtering back into the corridors reached them, signaling that classes were about to begin for the morning. They bid each other luck for the remainder of the day and Danny left just as some of the students were beginning to enter the room.

It stayed on her mind all the rest of the work: a quiet life. Wasn’t Berk already quiet? Yeah, sure, there was the d-r-a-g-o-n issue, but when all was said and done, it wasn’t as though they were the center of a kingdom, or in the middle of a trading crossroads. Then there was what clearly was an offer to go along… it was a lot of a conversation to have at once… in fact, she wasn’t entirely sure what to think about it. How much more quiet could it get, and if it could, would it bore her to tears?

Then, to top it all off, there was the fact that it was Danny who made her the offer—was he someone she could make that journey with? It was something she had never thought of… and it concerned her. She made her way through the school day and left soon as she could, slipping out of the building unnoticed and heading out into the forest at the edge of the village in order to clear her mind.

The forest—oh, it was one of her favorite places on the island. It was different from the “quiet life” that Danny had mentioned, despite what most people would claim. To Clara, the forest was life; it was always new every day and showed her wonders each time she wandered about in it. There were no predators on the island save for other humans, yet it was a place that seemed wild, unpredictable, and just a touch dangerous. The sea can drown you or let you be eaten, sure, yet the forest… there was no telling what would happen despite the deceptive security of solid land.

After finding a spot her mother favored overlooking the sea, Clara sat down and enjoyed the sun as it prepared to set. The breeze off the ocean was gentle that day and she was able to use it to motivate herself to go through essays and begin a book she had been meaning to start. She had bought it the last time traders were in port and wondered if she could easily add it to the list for some of her older students. It would mean ordering a few more copies to make sharing bearable, but she needed to figure if it was good for the rotation first.

The sun was not yet touching the horizon when an odd noise reached Clara’s ears. It was an odd, screeching sort of noise, unlike any tern or skua or gull she’d heard before. She closed her book and placed it back in her bag with the rest of her things, looking about for the source and not seeing anything. Standing, she looked around, her heart beginning to beat faster.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw it: something large falling out of the sky and into the forest. She immediately began running towards it, hoping that whatever it was had a relatively straight trajectory. As the sky began to turn different colors to signal sunset, she began to run, running all the way to the spring-fed lake in the middle of the forest.

She looked around and found what had been careening through the air: there, laying on the edge of the lake, was a brilliantly-blue dragon wearing a harness of all things.

Clara gasped, jerking backwards at the realization. Though she often brought the smaller children to shelters to hide during attacks, she had seen her fair share of dragons, and this was one she could not place. It was small and sleek, with cobalt-blue scales and wild eyes. Eventually, after the dragon did not move, she stepped forward in hesitation. Its scales rippled in every color her eyes could fathom as it laid there, panting heavily and not moving. A moment and she figured it out.

The dragon was hurt.

“Who are you?!”

Clara turned and saw a man she had never seen before bounding out of the woods and heading towards her. She stepped out of the way and let him get between her and the dragon. He was much taller than her, with greying brown hair and storm-blue eyes. The scowl on his face was one of the most intense she had ever seen, accentuated by his wild brows, and a face so well-frowned that it might as well have been stone. His clothes were made from dark cloth and beaten leather, both of which seemed to be a bit battered from whatever fall caused the cut on the side of his head and the scratches on his face.

“I think the question is who are you?” she fired back. She pointed at the dragon and glared back. “What do you think you’re doing with this?!”

“Don’t think you understand Idris and me,” he snapped, his brogue making his voice even more abrasive. The man then turned his back to her and knelt down at the dragon’s side. His voice grew softer as he touched the creature’s wing. “Does this hurt?” The dragon wheezed. “Alright, I guess so.”

“Why are you with that dragon?” she asked. He didn’t look back at her, instead keeping his attention on the creature before him. She moved around to get a glimpse of his face, seeing that it was much softer, much kinder, than it had been just moments before. “Why… are you with that dragon…?”

He noticed the change in her tone and glanced at her; with wide eyes the same brown as her hair, she seemed just as confused as she was… dare he think it…

“We’re running,” he admitted quietly. “It’s been a long time.”

“Running from what?”

He turned his attention back to the dragon. Huh… okay…

“I didn’t think anyone rode dragons anymore,” she said as he unbelted the harness. “There were a few who did, yeah? I hear it’s like trying to tame a whale: impossible.”

“Not impossible, as you can see,” he replied. With the harness off, Clara could see that the dragon’s scales were attempting to blend in with the sand beneath her, not quite making it. “She’s hurt too bad—she can’t blend in.”

“Blend in…? She can seem invisible…?” Several things clicked in her brain at once. “Then you’re…”

“…just a passerby, who only wants to help where and when he can,” he finished. “I’m the Doctor… just the Doctor.”

“…and I’m Clara Oswald.” She stared at the injured dragon and frowned. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were one of the Dragon Lords.”

“…and how am I not one of those pompous windbags?” Huh… not the reaction she was expecting.

“They were all supposed to have died out hundreds of years ago, when the dragons finally turned on their masters,” she said. “That’s why we have dragon raids to begin with: because the Dragon Lords are no longer around to perform their duties.”

“Maybe they all did, maybe they didn’t,” he scowled. Something told her that the anger in his voice was not directed at her, but at someone else… something else… and it piqued her interest. “Now if you don’t mind, I need to figure out what’s wrong with my dragon before anything gets infected.”

He seemingly began to block her out as she began to step backwards, eventually turning on her heel and running off. Clara ran at full speed until she reached the village’s limit, afterwards leaning on a nearby fencepost to catch her breath. It was almost completely night, the twilight clinging for the last few minutes it could.

“Clara…?” She looked and saw Danny nearby, concern on his face. “What are you running from?”

“To; I was running to the village,” she said between gasps. It wasn’t a lie, so she didn’t feel bad saying it. “I wanted to see if I could still run all the way here from Mum’s spot.”

“Try not to do it again—you look about ready to fall over,” he laughed.

Ah, good; the adrenaline that she had gained from running fast as she could masked the fact that she wasn’t entirely sure what to think about her discovery in the forest. It was the last thing she wanted to explain to anyone that evening, especially Danny. Why worry him unnecessarily? She could take care of herself. It was only a man she found… a man… and a dragon.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Later on that evening, Clara packed a bag and crept out of the village. It was easy to do, as the dragons always came from the sea and never the forest, and the rest of Berk was sleeping. She brought the bag with food and medicine out to the lake, finding only the dragon’s harness as proof that there was someone there before. Placing the bag down, she did not wait before heading back, knowing each minute she was out there was an added risk.

There was no doubt about it, she decided: the Doctor was most definitely a Dragon Lord.

[yandere-ac]

Could you do something with yandere Pietro or Dom I love them so much and I would love to see what my babies would be like ❤❤

Yandere Pietro X Reader

"Aaaaah y/n...ssssssuch a silly thou-*hicc*ought, hhhehe" Pietro had blurted out. The two of you were celebrating his birthday by relaxing by the beach and having a picnic. There you had given him your gifts, sung happy birthday and started to cut up the cake, which was fine and dandy. But then Pietro had busted out the Vacation Juice and well, that’s when things had started to become a little more blurry. It had started with just a couple of sips, but then you two were doing challenges and sooner or later you were both dizzy and giddy.

You had just suggested that you and him should start a circus together, which he had brushed off as a joke. "Nno, 'm serious Pietro. We should *hicc* totally do it! I cou-I could be the guy behind the lights and you could be the entertainer! Is’ genius!" You had blurted out. "Yeeeeeeah but we can’t just leave the island? You’ve got your job as island rep and I’ve got my job" Pietro responded as he looked at you contented. "Wah? You have a job?" This made you very much confused since there weren’t really any jobs on the island that you could think of. "Why yes of course! My job is being the greatest, most astounding villager around here!" He had stated triumphantly. This caught you off guard and made you snort. You playfully hit him on the shoulder and before you could react, Pietro had tackled you into a hug. The both of you fell onto the picnic blanket and you both started to laugh, but only for a little while. Yes, soon the laughter died down and you both just laid in each others arms, looking up at the sky, smiling.

"Thanks fo-or the offer y/n, but I’m perfectly content with living here on the island, entert-*hicc*taining our fellow islanders...with you..." that last part was very quiet, barely above a mumble. You weren’t sure if you were suppose to hear that part but you did. You liked Pietro, he was one of your first islanders and you two had quickly become close. By now you were practically *inseparable*.

He always kept you company even whilst you were doing your tasks, planting trees, terraforming, fishing, catching bugs, digging up fossils. It didn’t matter what you did, Pietro was always sure to follow you around, talking to you all whilst still having a smile. It was very sweet of him, sometimes keeping up the island was a chore but it was made much easier when you had someone to talk to. One time when you were walking by the beach, Pietro had given you a shell, saying that he thought it looked pretty. You still kept that shell, never once even thinking of selling it to Timmy and Tommy.

You and him had been through it all, the nooks cranny and plaza upgrade, the K.K. Slider concert, the May Day event, that horrid bunny day event. He’d been with you, from start to finish. And you wanted him to stay with you until the absolute finish. Or, at least you hoped so. You knew very well that there was a possibility that he might want to move away, but you always tried to shun that thought. It always made you so nervous and sad and now you were thinking about it and-

"Hmm? Is something wr *hicc* wrong? Honk honk" He could see the frown on your face, a frown that you hadn’t even realized that you had. "Oh...umm...Pietro? You...you enjoy your life on the island right? You don’t want to leave?" As you asked this, you could see his eyes widen and his face turn from confusion to worry. "Why, of course not. Why would you ever think I would? I love it here on the island!" He said, giving you a gentle smile. "I guess...I’m just kinda scared that you would find a better island and want to move there" you admitted to him, this had made him laugh. "Oh Y/N! No island is ever going to be better than this one! You wanna know why?" He quirked his eyebrow as his lips formed into a smug smile.

"Why?"

"Because this island has you"

The next morning you had woken up feeling rather stiff. Not because you had a bad bed or anything but because you and Pietro had fallen asleep right there on the beach, huddling close together for warmth. You in particular had buried your face in his soft wool, Pietro didn’t really mind, he knew that humans had a higher risk of catching colds since they didn’t have any fur. It had been nice at first. But now your back was hurting and your hair was full of sand. Waking up before Pietro you got up and instantly felt a sharp pain in your head. You winced and immediately put your hands on your head as if that would do anything to stop the pain. Good lord, if you were feeling like this, then you could only imagine how bad it would be for your sheep pal. He had drunken a lot, and I mean a LOT more vacation juice than you had.

You took a little while to let your nerves calm down and the pulsation in your head stop. And after taking a few deep breaths you stood up and pulled Pietro onto your back, giving him a piggyback-ride to his house were you safely tucked him in....well maybe not tucking him in, more like placing him on his moonchair. It’s not your fault that the madman refuses to get an actual bed. But now, it was onto the residential services, you had to let Tom and Isabelle know that you couldn’t work today.

Dragging yourself towards the resident services you appreciated that you had woken up early, since most of the other islanders were still asleep. You didn’t want them to see you like this, it took you everything to not go straight home so Tom and Isabelle didn’t see you like this. But you knew that they would be concerned if you didn’t show up. Opening the door, it had made the little bell on top of said door jingle. "Good morning Y/N!" You heard a certain yellow dog cheer. Her volume made you wince and cover your ears slightly. "Oh, sorry. Are you okay? Was I being to loud?" Isabelle and Tom were now fully turned to you, giving you all of their attention. "No, no. It’s fine Isabelle, just, keep it down a little right now. I have a hangover at the moment" this made Isabelle let out a sharp gasp and Toms eyes slightly wider. This wasn’t the first time you’d ever had a hangover, but it WAS the first time you’d ever turn up to "work" with a hangover. If you could even call it your work.

"A hangover? I don’t mean any disrespect Y/N, I truly don’t but why would you show up here then? Just go home and rest it off" Tom had told you. "Yeah, that’s what I’m planning to do, I just wanted to ask if you guys could handle all the rep tasks? You don’t have to do `em or anything but I just wanna know that you’ll be okay without me" now that you said it out loud it sounded a little stupid. Of course they could handle it, it’s not like you were really doing anything super important, and they both were adults. "Oh Y/N, how sweet of you. You know you don’t have to worry about keeping up with all the rep tasks right? This is your forever vacation! You don’t have to stress about not showing up everyday and work on the island" Isabelle had yipped happily, although a little quieter than usual of course. "Yes, yes. The deserted island getaway package is supposed to be relaxing, not pushing more work onto you. We’ll be fine. Go home and rest now" Tom told you with a smile. Seeing them both so supportive had made you feel warm inside. You had overworked yourself during these past few months, always wanting the island to be perfect. But this was your vacation after all. You thanked them both and just before you left Tom had told you: "And Y/N? Don’t feel obligated to come back after you’re better, you can take the next few days to yourself"

Oh god, everything was wrong! Everything was totally wrong!!! You had followed Toms request and had stayed inside for the day, not only that but the next two days. And when you came back, it turns out that a camper had visited the island, another sheep named Dom, he had heard of the islands good reputation and wanted to move in . But there was no room left on the island. And so, after some arrangements he had gotten to replace someone. And that someone had been Pietro.

But worst of all, Pietro had never even stopped by your house to say goodbye. You didn’t know if it was because he didn’t have any time or if he was mad. You hoped it wasn’t the latter but it wasn’t like it mattered anyways, you wouldn’t ever see him again. Once you found out from Isabelles morning announcements that a new islander had moved in and takes Pietros place you had stormed out towards Pietros house. To your horror it was a completely different house, and to hammer in the fact that Pietro was gone. The new resident had exited his house and greeted you. Once realisation hit you, you sunk to the ground, tears flowing out of your eyes. You couldn’t believe it, you refused to believe it! Your closest friend, the one person who had been with you since the very beginning. Gone! Just like that he was gone.

Your short stay inside your house and now extended to a week. A week, with no contact and no interaction with the island. Some of your friends on the island had slipped in some letters underneath your door but you couldn’t bother to read them. All you wanted to do was cry and mourn the loss of you friend. You felt like he had died, which he might as well have, you knew that once someone moved out, their chances of returning where next to nothing. And it made you deeply depressed to think about. You were mad at Tom Nook, you were mad at Isabelle, you were mad at the new Islander, you were mad at the world, you were mad at YOURSELF! But the one person, the only person that you’d never be mad at, was Pietro. The one who you needed the most.

It had taken a while, but you eventually got out of your house. Only to be immediately bombarded with apologies from Tom and Isabelle. As it turns out, there had been a mistake in the system that had allowed Dom, the new resident to replace anyone he wanted. They were both very upset and sorry about their mistake. It didn’t exactly make the situation any better, but you did eventually forgive the two. But that wasn’t the only thing that had changed during the week inside your house. You had noticed that your other fellow residents had started to treat you differently. They acted as if they were walking on eggshells around you, as if you could break at any second and they’d have to be there with the glue. It was very annoying, no one would talk to you like a normal person, but you did receive a lot of support, which was nice you supposed. Even Dom had tried to comfort you at some point, saying that he didn’t mean to separate you and your closest friend. But you had made it very clear to him that you didn’t want to talk to him at all, he was the one that did this. And you had no desire to ever forgive him.

But just like everything in life, eventually, you had to move on.

It was an ordinary day at the island, soon it would have been a year since Pietro moved out, and you had started getting used to life without him. By now, everyone was starting to act normal around you once again. You had grown closer to your other islanders and had even started to engage in conversations with Dom. You held less of a grudge towards him nowadays. He didn’t really know what he was doing when moving in. And he was pretty pleasant to talk with, although he was nowhere near your favourite resident.

You were going to fly to a deserted island to get more supplies and hopefully you would be dropped off at a rare island. As you were sitting in the seat of the airplane, you were conversing with Wilbur, your good friend and the captain of the plane. You found yourself often going to deserted island when you wanted to get away and be alone with your thoughts. Although that didn’t really happen that much since there were still other people going on island tours. They were nice, but you could never bring them with you since your island was now full.

In the distance you could see faint smoke coming from the island you were landing on. So there was another person there.

Stepping off the airplane, you walked off the docks and onto the island ground, you were in luck! The trees there were full of fruit that was not native to your island. You happily started to shake the trees and picking up the fruits that fell to the floor. That was all good until you saw the campfire off in the distance. And more importantly, who sat by it. You couldn’t believe your eyes, and you had to run closer to make sure your eyes weren’t deceiving you. Oh my god, it was-

"PIETRO!" You had shouted running up towards him and tackling him into a hug. You couldn’t believe it! He was here! He was okay! And he was-

"Oh...it’s you. Thought you didn’t want me in your life"

And he was mad.

"What?! No! Pietro listen to me! There was a big mistake!" You tried to explain, but by the look of his expression he was having none of it. "Save it, honk honk. You think I’m stupid? You let a new person move in, and then have the audacity to lock yourself inside, refusing to take contact and ignoring me before I was forced to move out!" The sheep’s eyes turned from angry to sad. "I...I though you loved me Y/N... I though we were friends... I thought we were gonna stay together, the two of us against the world... But I guess I was wrong" you could hear a small crack in his voice as he said this and soon your vision started getting blurry with tears. "Pietro, please listen to me, I never wanted this to happen. I wanted to stay together with you, believe me I did. I still do! But when that new islanders had come to the island he moved in without my permission. I was taking a break from my life as island rep and didn’t get the memo. Trust me! If I would have known about this. I would have stopped it! Please forgive me Pietro! I never wanted this to happen" you fell to your knees and started crying, you had finally found him again but now he hated you.

But little did you know, that was so far from the truth. As you wept into your hands you felt yourself being pulled into a woolly chest. And soon, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your shaking body. You quickly returned the hug, the both of you now crying onto each other. The two of you had lost one another, we’re separated, divided. But you had finally found each other. And unbeknownst to you, Pietro was gonna make sure that he wouldn’t lose you to somebody else.

Later that day, you returned to your island, with Pietro. On the plane ride home you two were still holding onto each other. As if one of you let go, you would never see each other again. As the two of you stepped onto the island, a lot of people started gasping and some even ran up to Pietro. Giving him a big hug, telling him how they’ve missed him. But the moment quickly faded as a very confused Dom had walked up to you and asked what was happening. "Oh? Dom! This is Pietro! He used to live here befo-" one of your peppy islanders had said before cutting herself off, realizing what she was about to say.

"Oh...so...is this the islander who replaced me?" Pietro said, a smile present on his face, but his eyes, his eyes held what could only be described as pure hate. "Oh, im so sorry about that, indeedaroo. I never meant to-"

"No! It’s fine! Really! I’m happy to put all of this behind us, what is important is that I’ve returned" Pietro said, the wide smile still present on his face. Everyone could tell that Pietro was clearly not over it. But you didn’t care, Pietro was back and you’d both agreed that he’d stay at your house. And you felt ecstatic!

But that’s how you felt.

Pietro, felt quite the contrary. He had been willing to forgive you, believing that the whole "kicking him out" was an accident. And at that moment, he WAS happy. But the moment he stepped on the island and saw that the person who had replaced him was another sheep. That’s when he got angry. Not only that but he was wearing a rainbow shirt. He WAS trying to replace him! He had started to brainwash you so that you would let him move into HIS plot. He probably wanted to hurt you, or worse. PURSUE YOU! He couldn’t let that happen, he couldn’t let someone take you away from him. Not again. He’s the first to admit that when he had to leave, he was really hurt, he’d thought that you had wanted to get rid of him. How silly of him. It was clear to him now that DOM was the real culprit. Well he wasn’t gonna let Dom steal his life from him.

Not on his watch.

It had happened quietly, in the middle of the night. The clown had snuck into the jocks room, since he hadn’t closed his door. And then, he’d done things that he didn’t think he was capable of, things that would horrify any normal person, things that even made himself a little afraid of what he was capable of. After the hard part was done, he had to move onto the second part of his plan.

In the morning, you had woken up. You stretched a little and then went up. You had made your breakfast and now it was time to go outside. But first, you went into the room that Pietro was sleeping in. He looked knocked out, poor baby. You decided to not wake him up, leaving him a note instead.

"Out of the house, the bread is in the left cabinet in the kitchen"

Going outside you had greeted all of you residents as you all waited for Isabelles announcement.

"Hello everyone! Right now on (Island name), it’s 9:46 am on Tuesday, August 13th. For today’s news, we’re sorry to be announcing that Dom the sheep moved out last night. Leaving his house completely alone. We’re not sure why he have done this, but the house is going to be up for sale."

This shocked you and a lot of residents, Dom had never expressed a need to move out or the want to experience new things. So the fact that he would presumably move out without an explanation was very strange to you, especially if he had left the house. You went to the plot to see the house still indeed standing there. As you walked up to the house you saw a note taped to the door.

"Dear (island name), I’m sorry that I left you all in such a hurry but I knew it was something that had to be done. When I moved in here, I didn’t know that I would have to take one residents place, and I didn’t know you all liked him so much. I simply cannot live here with the guilt that I separated friends from each other. To make up for it, I’ve left the house for Pietro. I hope we could see each other again some day"

This note felt very weird to you, it didn’t feel right. You knew Dom, this didn’t feel like him. It felt like a wolf in sheeps clothing. But no matter, you all had to move past this weird incident. Pietro had moved back in and all had seemed to be going well. You and him had grown even closer now and Pietro loved it.

Before, you were close. But now, you always seemed to be afraid that if you looked away from him, he would disappear. And Pietro took full advantage of this. He loved to feel you being so dependent on him, he always felt so jittery anytime you held his hand. He loved you, he loved you deeply, he didn’t care if it was unhealthy, he loved you, he NEEDED you.

He lost you once, and he wasn’t gonna lose you ever again.